Coi.  W  F  BARTLETT 


WITH    THE 


FORTY-NINTH   MASSACHUSETTS 


VOLUNTEERS. 


HENRY   T.   JOHNS, 

LATE  QUARTER-MASTER'S  CLERK  FORTY-NINTH  MASS.  VOLS. 


PITTSFIELD,  MASS.: 
PUBLISHED    FOR    THE    AUTHOR 

1864. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Conirress,  in  the  year  1S64, 
!'.>    II  i:\KV  T. 


In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
I>i>tiict  of 


C.     A.    AI.VOKD.    Ml .\:i."T\  I'l.l'.    A 


TO 

THE    MEMBERS 


THIS  VOLUME 

IS    AFFECTIONATELY    DEDICATED, 
BY    THEIB    COMRADE, 

HENRY  T.  JOHNS. 


M123162 


PEEFACE. 


"  Forty-ninth  Regiment  Massachusetts 
Volunteers"  sprang  from  Berkshire.  This,  their 
record,  is  written  for  Berkshire  readers.  If  it 
shall,  in  after  years,  enable  my  comrades  to  recall 
the  events  and  some  of  the  emotions  of  our  sol 
dier-life  ;  if  it  shall  tend  to  unite  us  in  sympa 
thy  ;  if  it  shall  present  to  our  friends  a  fuller 
view  of  our  deeds  and  experiences,  and  bring 
out  more  vividly  the  merits  of  our  "  fallen  brave," 
I  shall  be  satisfied. 

Writing  it  has  been  to  me  a  "  labor  of  love." 
I  have  written  fully  and  earnestly  of  the  principles 
underlying  this  struggle ;  otherwise,  I  have  con 
fined  my  pen  to  pur  regimental  life  as  it  came 
within  niy  observation  and  experience.  It  would 
be  sad  to  believe  those  principles  were  no  part 
of  that  life. 

My  chief  regret  is,  that  fuller  data  did  not 
enable  me  to  do  justice  to  all  our  dead. 

The  engraving  of  Colonel  Bartlett,  one  of  the 
best  evidences  of  the  skill  of  the  leading  engraver 
of  New  York,  A.  W.  Ritchie,  needs  this  remark : 
On  applying  for  a  photograph,  from  which  to 
obtain  an  engraving,  the  Colonel  sent  me  several, 
taken  in  different  styles,  by  different  artists,  at 
different  times.  I  selected  the  one  that  was  used 
because  I  deemed  it  the  best  one,  and  because  it 


PKEFACE. 

Snggestjfo  of  the  wound  received  at  Port 
Hudson,  a  memorable  part  of  the  most  memorable 
day  in  our  history. 

The  wood-cuts  are  the  workmanship  of  S.  J. 
Pinkney,  New  York.  Even  the  uneducated  eye 
will  at  once  discern  their  artistic  excellence.  That 
the  likenesses  are  not, "in  every  case,  equal  to  the 
engraving  thereof,  results  from  two  causes :  defec- 
tiveness  of  some  of  the  pictures  furnished,  and 
the  impossibility  of  securing  perfect  likenesses, 
on  so  small  a  scale,  from  wood-cuts. 

I  have  written  this  "  Life"  in  the  form  of  "  let 
ters,"  thus  making  it  less  didactic  and  stiff  than 
had  I  observed  the  historic  style.  Necessarily 
the  "first  person"  is  much  used,  perchance  so 
much  as  to  render  liable  the  charge  of  egotism. 
In  describing  our  battles,  I  have  dwelt  at  length 
on  my  own  actions  and  feelings,  believing  the 
personalness  thereof  would  convey  to  my  readers 
a  better  idea  of  such  scenes  than  merely  general 
descriptions.  What  is  a  bait  1< \  but  the  aggregate 
of  individual  deeds  and  emotions?  If  pride,  in 
being  allowed  to  share  in  'our  honorable  career, 
occasionally  crops  out,  I  can  only  say  in  extenua 
tion,  "out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the 
mouth  speaketh." 

Hoping  this  hurriedly-prepared  volume  will 
keep  fresh  the  memories  that  gather  round  t!i<> 
"  Forty-ninth  Regiment  Massachusetts  Volun 
teers,"  and  do  something,  however  little,  to  incul 
cate  those  principles  of  which  our  military  life 
was  but  an  outgrowth,  I  send  it  forth  to  fulfil  its 
mission. 

HENRY  T.  JOHNS. 

PITTSFIELD,   MASS.,   May  \st.   1864. 


LE  TTEES. 


LETTER  I. 

HINSDALE,  MASS.,  August  10,  1862. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

Like  many  others,  I  am  almost  decided  to  enlist.  A 
large  class,  about  the  time  of  the  bombardment  of  Sum- 
ter,  forgetting  their  physical  weakness,  enlisted.  In  those 
grand  days  (and  despite  all  our  mismanagement  and  re 
pulses,  the  days  have  been  growing  grander  ever  since), 
when  God  seemed  to  be  saying  to  our  internal  foe,  "  Thy 
days  are  numbered,  and  thy  kingdom  is  taken  from  thee," 
tile  weak  felt  strong,  so  that  "one"  almost  imagined  he 
"  could  chase  a  thousand,  and  two  put  ten  thousand  to 
flight."  Alas!  they  fill  our  hospitals,, or  lie  in  lonely 
graves  on  the  Peninsula.  When  victories,  "  like  angel 
visits,  few  and  far  between,"  illumined  the  horizon,  I 
have  had  no  special  promptings  to  join  the  army ;  but 
there  has  never  been  a  signal  defeat,  that  I  have  not  felt 
the  old  half  yearning,  half  conviction,  that  so  nearly  led 
me  to  enlist  in  the  spring  of  1861. 

As  we  recede  from  the  seven  days'  fight  before  Rich 
mond,  we  get  a  clearer  view  thereof,  and  are  compelled 
to  call  it  a  fearful  reverse.  True,  there  were  splendid  ex 
hibitions  of  Northern  valor,  and  that  is  all  we  have  gained. 
Had  we  so  entirely  forgotten  our  past,  did  we  think  we 
had  so  degenerated,  that  such  battles,  with  their  slain, 
were  necessary  to  convince  us  and  the  world  that  valor 
was  an  heirloom  of  freemen  ?  Wisely  has  the  President 


LIFE    WITH   THE    FORTY-XIXTII 

called  for  three  hundred  thousand  more  men,  and  now 
his  call  for  three  hundred  thousand  more,  looks  so  much 
*'  like  being  in  earnest,  that  it  calls  out  the  hopeful  earnest 
ness  of  the  nation.  The  country  needs  the  men,  and  I, 
for  one,  feel  that  no  longer  can  I  say  "  Go  !"  but  "  Come  !" 

But  a  serious  thought  arises :  "  Have  I  a  right  to  take 
human  life  ?"  To  be  slain  seems  not  half  so  fearful  as  to 
slay.  Grant  that  war  can  be  right  and  the  matter  is  set 
tled,  for  never  was  war  holy  if  this  war  be  not  holy. 
Fully  have  I  considered  the  matter,  and  I  am  grounded 
in  the  conviction  that,  under  certain  circumstances,  war 
is  not  only  not  wrong,  but  an  imperative  duty  we  owe  to 
God  and  man. 

God  commanded  the  Jews  to  go  up  to  battle  against 
the  heathen  nations  that  inhabited  Canaan.  That  forever 
settles  the  fact  that  war  is  not  inherently  wrong,  for 
though  a  holy  God  may  allow  sin,  he  never  commands  it 
to  be  done.  To  say  that  that  was  under  the  old  dispen 
sation,  does  not  affect  me;  for,  no  matter  what  the  circum 
stances,  God  would  never  conummd  or  encourage  that 
which  is  essentially  wrong,  that  which  is  in  opposition 
to  His  own  nature.  True,  a  thing  not  wrong  in  itself, 
may  become  wrong  to  us,  if  divinely  prohibited.  Though 
the  genius  of  Religion  is  opposed  to  all  violence,  and  will 
ultimately  subdue  the  spirit  of  war,  yet  neither  is  there 
in  the  Old  nor  New  Testament  any  direct  or  clearly  im 
plied  prohibition  of  War.  When  John  the  Baptist  was 
asked  by  some  Roman  soldiers  what  they  should  do  to 
inherit  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  he  did  not  say,  "  leave  the 
army,"  but  among  other  directions,  "  be  content  with 
your  wages,"  wages  received  as  soldiers.  He  knew  full 
well  that  some  of  them  were  at  times  sent  on  unhallowed 
enterprises,  but  he  doubtless  considered  the  army,  as  the 
armed  police  of  the  empire,  often  unjustly  employed,  but 
a  necessary  part  of  that  machinery  which  protects  the 
good  and  weak  from  the  assaults  of  the  evil  and  strong. 
The  Saviour  and  His  disciples  fellowshiped  with  soldiers, 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  9 

and  acknowledged  them  as  Christians.  True,  war  ushers 
many  souls  into  eternity  unprepared.  God  does  this  often 
in  individual  and  collective  cases,  and  we  do  not  impugn 
Him. 

Nothing  can  be  more  certain  than  that  God  is  a  God 
of  government.  We  believe  that  every  thing  material  is 
bound  by  laws.  Is  man  alone  left  to  his  own  impulses 
and  to  anarchy  ?  The  most  ancient  history,  that  of  the 
Old  Testament,  teaches  us -that  the  Creator  established 
governments  among  men.  His  rulers  had  the  right  to 
use  the  sword  under  certain  circumstances.  The  theoc 
racies  of  early  days  were  followed  by  the  institution  of 
civil  government,  which  has  been  declared  to  be  "or 
dained  of  God."  Now,  the  sword  is  necessary  to  uphold 
government.  Sad  it  is,  but  it  is  true.  Man  is  dealt  with 
as  he  25,  not  as  we  hope  he  will  be.  A  man  steals ;  an 
officer  tries  to  arrest  him ;  he  resists  that  officer,  who 
uses  violence,  even  unto  the  death  of  the  offender.  Now, 
that  is  not  a  death  punishment  for  theft,  but  for  an  at 
tempt  to  undermine  government  itself.  Let  him  succeed, 
let  a  thousand  others  succeed  unresisted,  and  where  is  the 
safety  of  property  ?  That  safety  once  gone,  and  our  very 
support  depends  on  our  brute  strength;  so  might  becomes 
triumphant,  and  for  the  weak  there  is  nothing  but  injury 
and  death.  A  man  commits  an  assault,  an  ordinary  as 
sault  on  another.  Let  him  alone,  let  all  such  alone,  and 
where  is  order  ?  where  is  society  ?  where  is  govern 
ment?  All  swallowed  up  in  anarchy.  Human  life  is  val 
uable,  but  national  life  is  yet  more  valuable.  Human  life 
may  be  sacrificed,  perchance  unjustly,  with  comparative 
ly  little  injury  to  society ;  but  the  destruction  of  a  na 
tion's  life  brings  untold  woe.  If  government,  that  di 
vinely  ordained  institution,  cannot  be  maintained  without 
sacrificing  human  life,  then  the  axe  must  descend.  Now 
right  here,  in  the  right  to  take  the  life  of  those  who  would 
overthrow  society,  lies  the  war-power. 

If  individual  life  is  worthy  of  defence,  national  life,  oil 
1* 


10  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

which  so  much  of  the  happiness  of  living  depends,  is 
more  worthy.  Thus  it  seems  to  me,  that  revelation  ami 
Reason  alike  teach  the  duty  of  war.  Neither  is  this  in 
compatible  with  the  idea  of  peace.  Peace  is  not  non- 
resistance  to  wrong,  but  rather  the  quiet  enjoyment  of 
our  rights.  Wherever  a  right  is  assailed,  there  is  war, 
though  never  a  gun  or  a  soldier  is  called  into  service. 
That  nation  which  tamely  bears  wrongs  that  maybe  right 
ed,  does  not  half  as  much  for  the  cause  of  peace,  as  they 
who  rise  against  oppression  with  the  old  war  cry,  u  Re 
sistance  to  tyrants  is  obedience  to  God." 

These  are  some  of  the  reflections  leading  me  to  believe 
I  could  eiigagi-  in  war  with  an  untroubled  e<>nsi-ience.  I 
give  you  results,  not  processes  of  reasonings.  If  ever  I 
go  into  battle,  I  may  forget  those  processes  ;  but  while  I 
hold  fast  to  the  conclusion  to  which  they  have  led  me,  my 
eye  will  not  pity,  nor  my  arm  spare  an  armed  rebel. 
Where  men  get  in  the  way  of  human  progress,  I  would 
remove  them  by  gentle  means  ;  if  they  resist  and  are  ob 
durate,  let  the  triumphal  car  go  on,  for  the  rejoicings  of 
the  saved  will  drown  the  groans  of  the  lost.  The  rebels 
have  got  right  in  the  path  of  God  and  freedom.  They 
refuse  to  move  ;  let  sword  and  cannon  do  their  mission. 
Openly  or  blindly,  every  Union  soldier  is  doing  God's 
work.  Let  our  foes  succeed,  and  not  only  will  we  be 
draped  in  mourning,  but  the  best  part  of  humanity  will 
be  sharers  of  our  sorrow  and  despair.  The  leaven  of 
Protestantism,  of  liberty,  and  of  education,  will  permeate 
the  world  if  we  succeed.  Anti-slavery  men  may  fight  with 
an  intense  enthusiasm,  if  they  believe  that  the  end  of  this 
war  will  find  our  flag,  stripes  all  hidden  by  stars,  waving 
over  never  a  master  or  a  slave ;  but  he  who  takes  a  fuller 
view  of  the.dealings  of  Providence  with  this  nation,  and  lias 
faith  in  the  Divine  mission  imposed  on  it,  will  scarcely 
need  the  inspiration  of  that  belief  (and  it  is  great)  to  con 
tinue  the  contest  till  victory  or  death.  While  African 
slavery  is  sure  to  go  under  the  waves  of  this  aroused 


MASSACHUSETTS  VOLTJNTEEBS.  11 

ocean,  future  historians  will  scarcely  recognize  it  as  one 
of  the  blessed  fruits  of  this  war,  so  rich  and  full  shall  be 
the  clusters  of  blessings  that  our  success  shall  give  to  the 
world.  That  alone  is  worth  a  nation's  blood  and  treas 
ure  ;  but* 'comprehensive  must  be  the  memory  that  can  re 
call  the  "iirst  fruits,"  when  enjoying  the  full  harvest. 
The  world  will  meet  to  enjoy  the  "harvest  home1'  pur 
chased  by  the  blood  and  treasure  of  hundreds  of  thou 
sands  of  Americans. 


12  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 


LETTER   II. 

HINSDALE,  MASS.,  August  29,  18G2. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

This  evening  I  enlisted,  thus  deciding  the  contest  of 
months.  My  health  and  strength  may  prove  sufficient 
for  the  duties  I  have  just  taken  on  me.  I  enlisted  under 
the  call  of  August  4th,  for  volunteers  for  nine  montlTs, 
deeming  that  wiser  than  to  join  a  three  years'  regiment. 

The  whole  county  is  absorbed  in  the  raising  of  troops. 
The  draft  was  postponed  till  August  15th,  and  then  to 
September  3d.  If  the  war  continues,  we  must  resort  to 
the  drafting  system.  It  is  the  fairest  and  surest  way  of 
raising  men.  Conscription  is  the  everlasting  root  of  a 
nation.  And,  when  party  feeling  is  comparatively  inac 
tive,  a  draft  could  be  easily  enforced  ;  but,  if  we  wait  till 
that  feeling  puts  on  some  of  its  old  activity  (and  even 
now  there  are  signs  thereof),  draft  and  anti-draft  will  be 
come  political  tests.  Then  the  strength  of  our  govern 
ment  may  be  put  to  Us  severest  test.  The  people  quietly 
allow  their  property  to  be  taken  for  the  use  of  the  nation  ; 
if  they  will  also  submit  to  the  forced  seizure  of  their  JH  /•- 
sons  for  the  same  end,  none  will  dare  say  that  there  is  not 
strength  in  a  republican  form  of  government. 

It  is  a  pity  that  the  last  call  of  the  President  was  not 
for  three"  years'  men.  Out  of  New  England,  they  are 
raising  but  few  nine  mouths'  regiments.  I  feel  quite  con 
fident  that  it  will  not  work  well.  Nine  months  is  too 
small  a  period  to  imbue  men  with  a  soldierly  pride.  Let 
a  few  months  pass,  and  they  will  begin  to  say,  "  in  four 
or  six  mouths  our  time  will  be  out ;"  and  when  that  is  the 
case,  the  longing  for  home  will  weaken  their  attach 
ment  to  the  army.  The  sick,  soon  expecting  to  be  dis- 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  13 

charged,  will  not  brace  up  against  disease,  as  if  they 
knew  that  they  had  to  serve  for  nearly  three  years  more. 
These  regiments,  unless  placed  in  the  Army  of  the  Poto 
mac,  will  scarcely  see  any  dangerous  service  till  near  the 
expiration  of  their  nine  months  ;  and  it  is  but  human  na 
ture  to  take  greater  care  of  ourselves  when  we  are  about 
closing  up  a  perilous  business,  than  when  the  peril  fills  up 
years  of  our  future. 

To  stimulate  volunteering,  we  have  adopted  the  system 
of  paying  bounties  to  recruits  on  being  mustered  into  the 
United  States  service.  A  town  votes  so  much  bounty  to 
each  recruit,  expecting  that  the  State  will  assume  the  debt 
as  in  the  case  of  aid  paid  to  families  of  soldiers.  Those 
bounties  range  from  $50  to  $150,  often  increased  largely 
by  the  selfishness  or  patriotism  of  private  individuals.  I 
suppose  no  intelligent  man  really  admires  this  bounty  sys 
tem,  yet  it  has  been  started,  and  we  must  adopt  it,  or  lo  ! 
the  draft !  It  brings  out  a  good  deal  of  selfishness.  Men 
come  from  towns  where  they  oifer  small  bounties,  and  en 
list  where  they  can  secure  larger  ones.  Some  carefully 
conceal  physical  defects  till  they  are  mustered  in  and  paid, 
and  then  are  discharged  for  disability,  while  others  desert 
as  soon  as  they  pocket  their  bounties.  Few  Would  object 
seeing  them  receive  the  full  penalty  of  the  law — death ! 
Strange  as  it  may  sound  to  you,  afier  the  above,  yet  it  is 
true,  a  better  class  of  men  are  enlisting  now  than  ever  be 
fore.  Go  through  the  county,  see  the  comfortable  homes 
they  are  leaving,  learn  their  position  and  reputation  in 
community,  and  you  must  stultify  your  common  sense  be 
fore  believing  that  greed  of  money  influences  them.  Some 
of  the  best  of  the  county  have  enlisted.  Better  remain 
not  behind.  If  any  selfishness  alloyed  their  patriotism, 
it  was  dread  of  the  draft, 'and  to  a  proud-spirited  man, 
the  idea  of  being  a  conscript  in  a  nation  of  volunteers,  is 
repugnant  to  every  feeling  of  self-respect.  I  believe  we 
will  raise  the  needed  number.  Surely  it  is  a  needed  num 
ber,  when  President  Lincoln  formally  refuses  to -receive 


I  4  LIFE    WITH   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

negroes  as  soldiers,  and  is  laboring  to  colonize  them. 
Strange  what  mad  crotchets  will  sometimes  invade  the 
brain  of  sagacious  men.  Colonize  four  millions !  Remove 
four  millions  of  laborers  from  a  country  that  needs 
nothing  as  much  as  working  men  !  Refuse  half  a  million 
of  soldiers,  and  then  make  frantic  appeals  to  men  to  hurry 
to  the  country's  rescue !  Old  Abe  will  see  his  mistake 
ere  long.  I  believe  he  sees  it  now,  but  fears  that  public 
opinion  is  not  'ready  for  the  correction  of  the  error. 
Statesmen  should  lead,  if  necessary,  drag  public  opinion 
up  to  the  right.  Still  the  negro  can  bide  his  time,  lie 
has  begged  for  the  privilege  of  fighting;  the  time  may 
come  when,  with  large  bounties  in  our  hands,  we  may  beg 
It  ini  to  join  our  ranks.  Too  numerous  ever  to  be  re 
moved — God  will  give  them  the  opportunity  to  secure 
our  respect  and  their  rights.  With  no  natioualty  to  full 
back  on,  with  their  own  swords  they  must  earn  a  share  in 
that  of  ours.  The  innocent  cause  of  this  great  rebellion, 
they  will  yet  become  potential  in  crushing  alike  it  and  its 
prolific  parent — their  curse,  slavery. 


Co. 


Capt.  I.  C.  WBLLEH. 
Lieut.  V.  A.  FRANCIS.  Lieut.  G.  W.  REED, 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  15 

LETTER  III. 

HINSDALE,  MASS.,  September  8,  1862. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

Though  you  are  absent  from  old  Berkshire,  the  home 
of  your  youth,  and  with  the  people  of  which  you  are  so 
well  acquainted,  I  know  your  new  home  has  not  dethron 
ed  the  old  from  your  affections ;  so  I  shall  gratify  you  by 
writing  at  length  concerning  Berkshire  men  and  events, 
only  promising  that  nil  I  communicate  will  savor  of  war ; 
for,  in  common  with  us  all,  the  war  absorbs  nearly  all  my 
thoughts,  feelings,  and  actions. 

War  meetings  for  the  raising  of  troops  are  more  nu 
merous  than  ever.  The  best  of  it  is  they  are  successes. 
We  have  filled  up  our  quota  of  three  years'  men.  Week 
before  last  was  a  memorable  one  for  Pittsfield.  On 
Thursday  thereof  a  monster  meeting  was  held  in  the  Park, 
and  there,  where  our  Revolutionary  fathers  gathered  in 
the  morning  of  this  struggle,  many  of  their  sons  volun 
teered  to  continue  and  close  up  the  old  contest  between 
aristocratic  usurpation  and  popular  rights.  How  history 
repeats  itself!  how  little  there  is  new  under  the  sun! 
Change  dates  and  names,  and  you  can  imagine  Cavaliers 
and  Puritans  to  be  the  actors,  instead  of  Yankees  and 
Southrons.  We  fight  no  new  battle.  It  is  only  another 
phase  of  the  old  contest,  old  as  human  governments.  A 
truce  to  this  digressing,  which,  though  one  of  the  privi 
leges  of  letter- writers,  I  will  not  further  avail  myself  of 
now.  At  the  Park  were  gathered  the  wealth,  the  bone, 
and  sinew  of  the  land.  Messrs.  Bowerman,  Colt,  Emer 
son,  and  others,  spake  burning  words  to  the  people. 
Many  of  our  wealthy  citizens  came  forward  to  do,  by 
their  purses,  what  they  could  not  do  or  would  not  do  by 


16  LIFE    WITH   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

their  right  arms.  They  did  not  then  fill  up  their  quotas. 
On  the  following  Saturday  at  noon,  nearly  all  places 
of  business  were  closed,  and  the  work  of  volunteering 
went  on  with  some  success.  Saturday  night  found  them 
yet  deficient.  The  draft  was  to  commence  the  coming 
Wednesday ;  our  brothers,  outnumbered  on  the  Potomac, 
were  loudly  calling  for  help,  and  it  was  decided  to  con 
tinue  the  effort  on  the  morrow,  the  Sabbath  day.  In  the 
quiet  of  a  New  England  Sabbath  evening,  they  secured 
the  requisite  number  of  men.  A  holy  day  was  appropri 
ated  to  a  holy  purpose.  How  foolish  !  how  wicked !  the 
remark,  that  moral  character  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
efficiency  of  the  soldier.  The  solemn  enthusiasm  of  that 
hour,  carried  into  the  battle-field,  would  render  any  army 
invincible. 

What  fatality  is  opposed  to  our  success  ?  We  ask  with 
our  President,  "  Is  it  possible  that  God  is  on  the  side  of 
the  rebels  ?"  No  !  He  wants  to  be  on  our  side,  and  will 
be  openly  when  we  are  willing  to  make  this  a  war  of 
ideas.  Though  superior  to  the  enemy  in  every  thing, 
save  knowledge  of  the  country  where  the  seat  of  war  is 
located,  we  find  that,  after  eighteen  months  of  the  most 
prodigal  expenditure  of  men  and  means,  we  have  made 
but  litlle  real  progress.  True,  we  have  had  some  success  in 
the  radical  West,  but  the  nation,  the  world,  looks-on  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  as  the  representative  army.  It  is 
so.  Say  what  we  may,  all  valuable  as  are  the  services  of 
the  Western  commands,  the  progress  of  the  war  is  wrap 
ped  up  in  the  army,  just  scattered,  if  not  beaten,  near 
Washington.  By  it  we  judge  ;  by  it  we  are  judged. 
The  two  contending  armies  of  the  respective  Capitals, 
must  strike  the  decisive  blow.  I  am  aware  that  the  im 
proved  and  enlarged  facilities  of  travel  have  rendered 
obsolete  the  idea  that  London  is  England,  that  Paris  is 
Frunce,  that  the  Capital  is  the  nation,  yet  none  ever 
dreamed  of  calling  them  victors,  whose  seat  of  govern 
ment  was  assailed  or  endangered  by  an  enemy.  Why 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  17 

this  comparative  unsuccess  ?  Simply  because  we  have 
not  been  possessed  of  any  great  inspiring  idea.  We  have 
the  fixed  determination  never  to  surrender  our  national 
unity,  and  "  the  Constitution  and  the  Union"  for  a  rally 
ing  cry,  but  we  need  something  more.  Liberty,  which 
is  the  life-blood  of  the  Constitution,  and  the  jewel  en 
shrined  in  the  Union,  has  been  studiously  kept  out  of 
sight.  Bayonets  think  in  these  days,  and  they  feel,  if 
they  cannot  logically  see  the  difference  between  appeals 
to  the  body  and  to  the  spirit.  Love  of  a  mere  written 
instrument,  or  a  civil  organism,  has  but  little  influence  in 
making  men 

• 
"  Their  Fatherland's  befriender, 

By  life  and  blood  surrender." 

Yesterday,  the  Thirty-seventh  left  for  Dixie.  Under 
the  old  elm,  Dr.  Todd  made  a  farewell  prayer.  Though 
he  was  heard  by  few,  it  was  a  solemn  scene.  We  knew 
they  were  bound  for  the  Potomac,  and  that  the  exigencies 
of  the  times  were  such  that  they  might  be  rushed  into 
battle  before  another  Sabbath  day. 

There  are  few  more  solemn,  subduing  scenes  than  the 
departure  of  a  regiment  for  the  seat  of  war.  Many  of  the 
men  assume  a  levity  that  poorly  hides  their  own  sadness, 
and  as  poorly  comforts  those  who  are  to  remain  behind. 
Mothers,  wives,  children,  were  there  to  bid,  to  look,  the 
last  adieu.  Many  a  mother  then  pressed  her  aching  head 
into  silence,  and  heroically  struggled  to  fasten  in  her  boy's 
heart  the  memory  of  a  farewell  smile.  Kind,  but  vain 
mockery !  To  many  wives,  the  measured  tread  of  that 
thousand  men,  marching  from  home  and  life,  seemed  to 
be  over  their  own  hearts.  They  felt  they  were  nearing 
a  day  when  there  would  be 

"  A  blush  as  of  roses 
Where  rose  never  grew;" 

and  though  they  were  not  deficient  in  the  spirit  of  self- 


38  LIFE    WITH    TOE    FORTY-NINTH 

sacrifice,  nor  heedless  of  the  glory  of  the  strife,  yet  the 
farewell  was  with 

"  Ah  mo  I     This  glory  and  this  grief 
Agrees  not  well  together." 

When  the  cars  started,  there  was  the  usual  cheering 
given  by  the  soldiers  as  evidence  of  their  cheerfulness, 
and  taken  up  by  those  who  had  no  very  near  friends  leav 
ing.  Those  who  had  emptied  hearts  and  homes  for  their 
country's  sake,  fearing  it  might  be  —  forever — cheered 
not,  but  gazed  on  the  receding  train  till  out  of  sight, 
and  then  turned  sorrowfully  homeward,  to  bear  alone  the 
suspense  of  months,  while  their  loved  ones  should  enter 
into  scenes  whose  novelty  and  excitement  would  lift  up 
their  sadness.  Not  all  the  brave  go  to  war.  Saving  the 
physical  privation,  exposure,  and  suffering  endured  by 
soldiers  who  are  really  loved,  their  lot  is  enviable  in  com 
parison  to  that  of  the  lone  women  of  our  land. 

"Heroic  males  the  country  bears, 

But  daughters  give  up  more  than  sons. 

Flags  wave,  drums  beat,  and  unawares 

You  iia.-'li  your  souls  out  with  the  guns, 

And  take  your  heaven  at  once. 
But  ive,  we  empty  heart  and  home 

Of  life's  life— love  !      We  bear  to  think 
You're  gone,  to  feel  you  may  not  come, 

To  hear  the  door-latch  stir  and  clink, 
Yet  no  more  you, — nor  sink." 


Co.    B. 


Capt.  C.  R,  GARLICK. 
Lieut.  C.  W.  KNIFFIN.  Lieut.  R.  R.  NOBLE. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  19 


LETTER  IV. 

CAMP  BRIGGS,  MASS.,  September  15,  1862. 
MY  DEAK  L.  : 

The  first  week  of  camp-life  is  over.  Of  course,  you 
want  to  know  all  about  it.  The  encampment  is  styled  as 
above  in  honor  of  Brigadier-General  Henry  S.  Briggs,  son 
of  the  late  ex-Governor,  G.  N".  Briggs.  Our  homes  are 
tents,  called  A  or  wedge-tents.  They  slope  from,  the 
ground  to  the  ridge-pole,  being  five  and  a  half  feet  high,  six 
feet  wide,  and  seven  feet  deep.  Six  form  a  family  circle. 
Did  you  ever  try  sleeping  with  five  full-grown  men,  with 
most  of  your  clothes  on,  in  a  bed  six  feet  wide  ?  If  so, 
you  know  that  involves  lying  "  spoon  fashion,"  and  when 
one  turns,  all  must  turn,  else  some  vigorous  remarks  will 
convince  you  that  you  are  encroaching,  not  on  the  terri 
tory,  but  on  the  body  of  your  neighbor.  The  weather 
must  be  very  bad  indeed,  if  we  do  not  hail  as  a  Godsend 
the  detailing  of  one  or  more  of  our  family  to  "  stand 
guard.''  That  has  some  draw-backs,  for,  when  his  two 
hours  of  guard-duty  are  over,  and  just  when  we  are  be 
ginning  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of  expansion,  he  returns,  and 
a  wet  bed-fellow  is  sometimes  the  result :  and  if  he  over 
sleeps  himself  so  as  not  to  hear  the  guard-call,  we  have  a 
visit  from  the  corporal  of  the  guard,  who,  after  divers 
hallooings  and  shakings,  succeeds  in  waking  us  all  up, 
the  right  man  last. 

Sixteen  of  these  tents  are  used  by  the  enlisted  men  of 
each  company,  being  eight  on  each  side  of  a  street,  some 
twenty  feet  wide.  The  streets  are  designated  "  A,"  "  B," 
"  C,"  after  the  names  of  the  company  occupying  them. 
The  first  street  to  the  right  is  occupied  by  Co.  A,  it  hav- 


20  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

ing  come  into  camp  first,  and  named  accordingly.  The 
next  by  Co.  B,  and  so  on.  We  have  placed  evergreen 
bushes  around  our  tents,  giving  quite  a  home-like,  a  syl 
van  look  to  the  encampment.  Our  streets  are  kept  scru 
pulously  clean.  They  run  nearly  east  and  west.  To  the 
rear  is  a  line  of  cook-houses,  to  be  used  when  we  are  fur 
nished  with  rations  raw,  instead  of  rations  cooked  as  we 
now  are.  A  trench  five  or  six  feet  long,  two  wide,  and  one 
deep,  with  a  crane  made  of  green  saplings,  serves  for  the 
cook-stove  of  each  company.  Beyond  these  are  sinks  for 
depositing  slops,  rarely  used,  for  our  sh re \vd  farmers,  hav 
ing  no  Jewish  aversion  to  pork,  are  on  hand  glad  to  pur 
chase  all  the  refuse  of  the  cook-houses.  Often,  milk 
graces  the  tables,  the  cooks  having  learned  that  alchemy 
that  transmutes  slops  into  good,  rich  milk.  Yet  further 
east  are  places,  sometimes  within  and  sometimes  without 
the  lines  of  sentinels,  reserved  for  meditation. 

To  the  west  of  the  company  streets,  and  at  right  angles 
wi:h  them,  is  the  grand  promenade  of  the  camp.  On  the 
western  side  of  this  avenue  are  located  the  tents  of  the 
Line  Officers,  captains  and  lieutenants,  opposite  severally 
to  their  respective  company's  streets.  Each  captain  is  en 
titled  to  a  tent,  as  also  are  two  lieutenants.  Unless  unso 
ciable,  they  are  generally  placed  so  that  one  will  be  in  the 
rear  of  the  other,  the  front  one  being  used  for  office,  sitting- 
room,  and  parlor ;  the  other  for  bed-room.  Do  not  im 
agine  that  the  officers  are  doomed  to  the  penalty  of  living 
in  wedge-tents.  They  have  wall  tents,  which  are  nearly 
seven  feet  square,  running  up  at  the  sides  about  five 
feet,  and  thence  to  a  ridge-pole  some  ten  feet  from  the 
floor.  So,  you  see,  they  can  live,  having  room  for  com. 
fortable  beds  or  berths,  chairs  and  tables.  Over  these 
tents  .are  spread  flies,  increasing  the  protection  from  the 
rays  of  the  sun,  and  from  rain.  To  the  rear  of  them  a 
little  to  the  north,  is  to  be  the  sanctum  sanctorum  •  the 
tents  of  the  Field  and  Staff  Officers,  or  "  Head-quarters," 
before  which  a  succession  of  unlucky  wights  must  sepa- 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  21 

rately  stand  on  guard,  that  there  be  no  profanation  of 
military  dignity. 

Our  regiment  is  to  be  known  as  the  Forty-ninth  Mas 
sachusetts  Volunteer  Militia.  We  hope  to  make  the 
"  Forty-ninth "  a  historic  name  worthy  of  the  glorious 
old  commonwealth. 

We  have  now  three  companies,  -A,  B,  and  C,  in  camp. 
With  regard  to  lettering  the  companies,  first  come,  first 
served.  If  lettering  went  in  accordance  with  the  dates 
of  commission,  "  B,"  would  be  k'  C,"  and  "  C  "  would  be 
"  B."  Co.  A  is  called  the  "  Allen  Guards,"  for  many  of 
them  once  belonged  to  that  organization.  It  was  named 
after  the  Hon.  Thomas  Allen  of  this  place,  who  has  been 
a  very  liberal  sponsor.  From  the  Allen  Guards  have  al 
ready  issued  several  companies  in  different  regiments, 
dating  from  the  first  war-cry  to  this  last  call.  I  know 
not  how  many  privates  have  gone  from  it,  but  it  has  fur 
nished  the  service  upward  of  twenty  commissioned  offi 
cers.  I  think  Co.  A  will  preserve  unimpaired  the  honor 
of  the  name.  They  encamped  in  Burbank  Hall  from  the 
3d  to  the  7th  inst.  When  the  Thirty-seventh  had  left, 
they  marched  into  Camp  Briggs,  a  pleasant  contrast  to 
the  gloomy  hall.  They  number  all  told  one  hundred 
men.  Though  not  large,  they  are  rugged  and  healthy, 
and  will  stand  the  wear  and  tear  of  army  life  better  than 
the  six  feet  giants  who  never  bend  till  they  break.  Being 
so  nearly  the  same  size  and  partially  uniformed,  and.  hav 
ing  had  some  little  drilling,  they  are  our  veterans.  Some 
of  our  best  young  men,  who  know  nothing  of  hardship 
and  privation,  are  with  them.  Their  average  age  is  twen 
ty-two  years,  eight  months,  and  eleven  days.  Their  aver 
age  height  is  five  feet,  seven  and  one-tenth  inches. 

They  are  well  officered.  Israel  C.  Weller,  of  the  firm 
of  Isham  &  Weller,  flour  dealers,  is  captain.  He  will 
make  a  good  one.  He  served  as  sergeant  with  the  three 
months'  men  under  Captain  (now  General)  Briggs,  and  at 
the  time  of  his  election  was  a  lieutenant  in  the  Allen 


22  LIFE    AV1TI1    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

Guards.  lie  is  well  posted  in  military  matters,  and  hav 
ing  a  fondness  therefor  will  make  a  superior  officer.  To 
his  own  men,  he  will  always  be,  in  thought,  if  not  in  words, 
/'•.  AVeller.  I  shall  watch  Capt.  Weller's  course  with 
M'lne  curiosity.  He  has  before  him  a  much  harder  task 
than  if  his  men  were  all  strangers  to  him.  They  like 
him,  and  while  he  is  free  with  them,  they  obey  him  very 
readily.  I  fancy  he  will  continue  the  same  cheery,  lively 
spirit,  but  I  mistake  the  man  if  he  will  ever  allow  famil 
iarity  to  degenerate  into  insolence  or  disobedience.  He 
is  twenty-two  years  of  age. 

George  W.  Clark,  a  finisher  in  Pittsfield  Woollen  Mills, 
is  the  first  lieutenant.  He  is  a  stranger  to  me,  but  he 
looks  the  officer,  and  is  very  highly  spoken  of.  He  is 
twenty-eight  years  of  age. 

Frederick  A.  Francis,  of  Sternsville,  aged  twenty-seven, 
is  the  second  lieutenant.  You  know  him,  and  will  read 
ily  believe  that  he  will  make  a  popular  and  efficient  offi 
cer.  So  gentlemanly,  with  such  a  winning  voice,  men 
will  receive  punishment  at  his  hands  more  readily  than 
favors  from  some  others.  Neat  and  tasty  in  dress,  with 
pride  of  carriage,  he  makes  an  attractive  appearance,  and 
I  prophesy  a  good  report  of  him  when  comes  the  time  to 
prove  our  soldierly  qualities.  By  the  by,  the  post  of  sec 
ond  lieutenant  is  just  the  easiest  and  pleasantest  in  the 
regiment.  lie  has  but  little  responsibility,  and  almost 
nothing  to  do  with  administering  discipline.  He  can  dis 
charge  his  whole  duty  and  yet  play  the  gentleman,  win 
ning  the  good  will  of  those  who  would  curse  him  had  he 
the  sterner  duties  of  a  captain  to  fulfil. 

Co.  A  is  very  fortunate  in  having  for  its  Orderly, 
George  Reed,  one  of  our  three  months'  men.  He  was  a 
printer  in  the  Berkshire  Eagle  office,  and  very  highly  re 
spected.  The  post  of  Orderly  or  first  sergeant  is  almost 
as  responsible  as  that  of  captain,  with  none  of  its  privi 
leges  or  honors.  He  is  the  business  man  of  the  regiment. 
If  a  detail  is  to  be  made  for  police,  guard,  or  any  other 


Co.    C. 


Capt.  (J.  R.  Li-'M;KNn-:i.riiR. 
Lieut.  D.  B.  FOSTKR.  T/u-nt.  J.  N.  STBONG. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  23 

duty,  he  selects  the  men,  and  on  him  fall  the  anathemas 
of  the  shirkers  and  of  those  who  may  be  really,  though  in 
nocently  overtasked.  If  punishment  is  to  be  inflicted,  he 
is  the  agent  of  that  punishment.  If  the  captain  is  cen 
sured  for  the  uucleanliness  of  the  men  or  quarters,  he 
comes  back  on  the  orderly.  Living  with  the  soldiers,  he 
must  yet  keep  up  the  dignity  of  the  officer,  so  that  his  nu 
merous  commands  will  be  obeyed  without  the  interference 
of  his  superior.  The  neatness,  discipline,  general  efficiency 
of  a  company  depends  as  much  on  the  first  sergeant  as 
on  the  commander.  Give  a  company  a  good  captain 
and  orderly,  and  you  may  be  sure  they  will  be  worthy 
of  the  service.  I  send  you  a  copy  of  the  company  roll. 
As  you  run  your  eye  over  it,  you  will  see  there  is  excel 
lent  material  in  it,  warranting  ine  in  saying  that  some  of 
the  best  young  men  of  the  town  are  there.  They  start 
well,  being  all  united.  As  four-fifths  of  the  men  are  from 
Pittsfield,  she  has  all  the  officers  and  none  feel  aggrieved 
thereat. 

Co.  B  came  into  camp  on  the  7th  and  8th  instant.  It 
numbers  one  hundred  and  two  stalwart  men,  among 
whom  are  the  pride  of  many  homes,  and  the  respected 
of  many  communities.  The  morale  of  this  company  is 
very  high.  By  reading  over  its  roll,  you  will  see  the 
names  of  those  who  never  left  their  homes  and  prospects 
save  at  the  promptings  of  duty.  Their  average  age  is 
twenty-six  years,  three  months  and  seven  days,  and  height 
five  feet,  eight  and  nine-tenth  inches. 

Charles  R.  Garlick,  of  Lanesboro,  one  of  the  firm  of  H. 
G.  Davis  &  Co.,  dealers  in  dry  goods,  is  captain.  I  have 
almost  no  acquaintance  with  him.  He  is  very  gentlemanly, 
dresses  well,  and  is  considered  a  prompt,  active  business 
man,  of  great  value  to  his  company.  I  think  he  will  be 
an  excellent  disciplinarian  and  a  reliable  officer.  He  owns 
to  twenty-six  years  of  age. 

Charles  W.  Kniffin,  aged  twenty-six  years,  merchant  of 
West  Stockbridge,  is  first  lieutenant,  He  is  a  man  of 


24  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NIN  HI 

i. n  usual  personal  popularity,  and  certainly  very  much  of 
the  gentleman.  In  common  with  others,  I  am  prepared 
to  prophesy  a  brilliant  career  for  Lieut.  Kniffin. 

Robert  R.  Noble,  agod  twenty-two  years,  is  second 
lieutenant.  He  is  a  son  of  R.  Noble,  Esq.,  of  Williams- 
town,  and  was  for  six:  months  a  sergeant  in  Second  MUS-M- 
chusetts  Volunteers,  from  which  regiment  he  was  dis 
charged  on  account  of  ill  health.  He  was  the  first  volun 
teer  from  Williamstown.  He  acted  as  drill-master  to  Co. 
E,  of  the  Thirty-seventh  Massachusetts,  receiving  the 
praise  of  Col.  Edwards.  He  is  a  good  type  of  Young 
America,  active,  intelligent,  self-confident.  He  loves  mili 
tary,  and  makes  a  fine  drill-master,  putting  vim  into  the 
exercises,  thus  making  them  attractive  to  the  men.  Ag 
the  other  officers  have  had  no  military  experience,  Co.  B 
has  shown  excellent  judgment  in  raising  young  Noble  from 
the  position  of  a  private  to  that  of  second  lieutenant. 

Orton  W.  Jennings,  of  Beckett,  is  the  first  sergeant. 
His  looks  denote  intelligence  and  promptness,  indispen 
sable  requisites  for  the  orderly  of  a  company.  The  men 
speak  highly  of  him.  I  wish  I  was  able  to  give  you  the 
names  of  those  households  from  which  two  or  more  have 
gone  forth  to  the  war.  Some  have  sent  their  all ;  hus 
bands  and  sons,  leaving  none  behind  save  the  aged  and 
the  women.  Abraham  Rosseter,  of  Richmond,  has  three 
sons,  his  all,  in  this  company.  It  is  easy  to  write  that 
sentence,  but  it  is  a  wonderfully  suggestive  one.  It 
speaks  of  an  aged  couple  in  their  loneliness  (perchance  of 
lonely  wives)  following  their  boys  in  prayer  and  thought 
through  all  the  temptations  of  the  camp,  and  the  dangers 
of  the  field,  stopping  awhile  as  in  fancy  they  hear  amid 
the  groans  of  the  dying,  voices  all  too  familiar  to  them. 
Who  can  tell  their  need  of  leaning  upon  the  Great  Father 
cf  all  for  strength  to  sustain  them  in  their  weary  waiting 
for  them  who  may  never  return ! 

There  wore  sad  hearts  in  a  darken'd  home, 
When  the  brave  had  left  their  bower; 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  25 

But  the  strength  of  prayer  and  sacrifice 
Was  with  them  in  that  hour. 

We  turn  from  do.  B,  otherwise  known  as  «*  Pomeroy 
Guards,"  in  compliment  to  Robert  Pomeroy,  Esq.,  of  this 
town,  and  introduce  to  your  notice  Co.  "  C,"  called  "  Berk 
shire  Guards,"  to  which  I  have  the  honor  to  belong. 

It  consists  of  ninety-three  men,  some  of  whom  are  equal 
in  morality  and  intelligence  to  any  in  the  regiment.  Their 
average  age  is  twenty-six  years,  four  months  and  twenty- 
six  days.  Their  average  height  five  feet,  nine  and  five- 
seventh  inches.  For  size,  we  will  be  apt  to  wear  the 
palm. 

Charles  T.  Plunkett,  son  of  Hon.  T.  F.  Plunkett,  is 
captain.  He  is  a  splendid  specimen  of  the  genus  homo^ 
being  six  feet,  six  inches  high.  As  he  is  but  twenty-two 
years  of  age,  he  may  have  reached  his  height  (it  is  to  be 
hoped  so)  but  not  his  full  growth.  He  can  hardly  be 
called  spare  or  stout,  but  every  way  a  well-built  man. 
Give  him  two  or  three  years  of  war  life,  and  you  may  hunt 
New-England  over  for  a  better  specimen  of  a  soldier. 
He  was  engaged  in  the  manufacturing  business,  at  South* 
Glastenbury,  Connecticut,  and  was  a  member  elect  of  the 
Connecticut  legislature.  Bright  seemed  the  opening 
world  to  him,  but  leaving  all  the  comforts  and  luxuries 
of  wealth  and  of  high  social  position,  he  has  taken  on 
himself  the  duties  and  hardships  of  a  soldier.  He  steps 
in  his  new  position  with  ease,  and,  if  not  suddenly  stricken 
down  by  rebel  bullets,  which  his  commanding  stature 
will  invite,  we  believe  he  will  do  honor  to  the  family 
name.  He  has  a  brother  who  went  out  with  the  37th  as 
a  lieutenant. 

Daniel  B.  Foster,  of  Cheshire,  is  our  first  lieutenant 
He  is  thirty-four  years  of  age,  and  has  in  him  many  of  the 
qualities  that  make  an  efficient  and  popular  officer. 

By  a  combination,  not  unusual  at  elections,  Pittsfield 
has  not  only  the  captaincy  of  our  company,  but  also  the 
second  lieutenancy  in  the  person  of  William  W.  Wells. 
2 


26  LIFE   WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

He  is  thirty-five  years  of  age,  and  possessed  of  consider 
able  ambition  and  energy. 

John  R.  Camp  holds  the  delicate  and  responsible  po 
sition  of  first  sergeant,  which,  we  hope  he  will  occupy  to 
his  honor  and  our  benefit.  You  may  not  be  aware  that 
in  these  nine-months'  regiments,  the  men  elect  the  com 
missioned  officers,  wh*o,  in  turn,  appoint  the  non-commis 
sioned  officers.  Thus,  a  duty  of  no  ordinary  importance 
devolved  on  us.  When  we  consider  the  power  entrusted 
to  officers,  how  that  power  may  be  abused,  that  our  hap 
piness,  almost  our  lives,  are  in  their  hands,  it  seems  but 
right  that  we  should  have  the  privilege  of  choosing  our 
own  commanders.  Yet  I  know  not  if  it  were  not  wiser 
to  have  them  appointed  by  the  Governor.  True,  with 
him,  "  kissing  goes  by  favor ;"  but  he  could  choose  as 
wisely  as  we  could,  seeing  that  we  were  called  upon  to 
vote  for  officers  before  going  into  camp  and  becoming  ac 
quainted  with  the  candidates:  Could  elections  be  deferred 
till  after  an  active  campaign,  we  might  vote  more  wisely. 

If,  under  the  present  system,  the  men  choose  unwisely, 
they  will  have  none  to  blame  but  themselves,  toor  sat 
isfaction,  to  write  "  fool"  against  your  own  name. 


Co.    D. 


r 


Capt.    S.    .1.    I'll  VFKRR. 

Lieut.  J.  TIVKKR.  J.irut.   T.  Siccixs. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEEBS.  27 

LETTER   V. 

CAMP  BRIGGS,  MASS.,  September  22,  1863. 
MY  DEAK  L. : 

On  Monday  last,  the  15th  inst.,  Co.  D,  raised  mainly 
in  Harrington,  came  into  camp.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say 
that  a  better  company  never  joined  any  regiment.  It  has 
a  large  number  of  farmers  and  farmer's  boys,  and  also  an 
unusual  number  of  intelligent  business  men.  In  every 
respect,  it  is  an  honor  to  Old  JBarrington.  It  numbers 
ninety-eight  men,  averaging  in  age  twenty-five  years,  five 
months  and  five  days ;  and  in  height,  five  feet,  seven  and 
one-fifth  inches. 

Its  captain  is  Samuel  B.  Sumner,  a  son  of  Hon.  In 
crease  Sumner,  of  Barrington.  He  is  a  man  of  thirty-two 
years  of  age,  one  of  our  rapidly  rising-  young  lawyers,  a 
graduate  of  Williams  College,  an  ex-State  Senator,  and  a 
poet  and  orator  of  no  mean  pretensions.  I  believe  he  has 
had  considerable  militia  experience,  and  therefore  is  pre 
sumed  to  be  competent  to  fill  the  duties  of  the  major- 
ship  of  the  regiment,  for  which  position  report  has  al 
ready  nominated  him.  He  is  shrewd  and  politic,  and 
will  make  few  blunders.  All  will  like  him. 

Joseph  Tucker,  of  Great  Barrington,  is  first  lieutenant. 
He  was  originally  named  for  captain,  but  when  the  company 
roll  was  partially  filled,  Mr.  Sumner  enlisted,  arid  Lieuten 
ant  Tucker  assented  to  him  as  their  captain,  believing,  as 
all  do,  that  the  promotion  of  Captain  Sumner  would  soon 
make  way  for  another  commander  of  Co.  D.  Lieutenant 
Tucker  is  a  son  of  George  J.  Tucker,  Esq.,  Register  of 
Deeds  for  this  county,  and  also  County  Treasurer.  He 
comes  from  a  good  family  (not  considered  a  despicable 
thing  even  in  Democratic  Massachusetts),  and  is  counted 
a  fine  fellow  and  an  estimable  man.  He  is  a  lawyer  by 
profession. 


28  LIFE   WITH  TIII:  FOKI  v- 

The  second  lieutenant  is  Samuel  J.  Chaffec,  originally 
from  Connecticut,  but  recently  connected  with  some  of 
the  mills  in  Berkshire.  He  is  active,  intelligent,  and  very 
popular.  He  is  a  man  of  earnest  convictions  and  great 
independence  ;  one,  we  may  prophesy,  who  will  do  his 
duty,  regardless  of  fear  or  favor.  The  orderly  sergeant  is 
James  K.  Parker,  who,  I  believe,  has  been  in  the  service 
before.  Co.  D  is  an  able  company,  ably  officered. 

Wednesday,  September  17th,  Co.  E  made  its  appear 
ance.  The  vert/  best  of  the  young  men  of  Southern  Berk 
shire  come  with  it.  Among  them  are  students  from 
Harvard  and  Yale,  besides  ministers  and  embryo  doc 
tors  and  lawyers.  A  nation  is  rich  indeed  that  has  s>t<-k 
sons  to  call  to  her  defence ;  richer  still  when  those  sons 
promptly  answer  her  call,  that  the  principles  that  have 
made  her  great  and  glorious  may  be  maintained,  and  be 
come  the  heritage  of  the  world.  The  material  of  Co.  E  is 
such  that  we  can  "Safely  predict  for  it  an  honorable  career. 
They  number  one  hundred  and  two  men,  of  an  average 
age  of  twenty-six  years,  and  height  of  five  feet,  eight  and 
one-quarter  inches. 

They  are  commanded  by  Horace  D.  Train,  a  physician 
of  Sheffield.  He  is  forty  years  of  age,  pleasant,  and  evi 
dently  used  to  good  society.  He  is  considered  a  very 
good  physician  of  the  Homeopathic  school.  If  our  surgeons 
shall  belong  to  the  same  school,  we  will  have  in  him  one 
more  than  the  standard  number ;  if  not,  Dr.,  alias  Cap 
tain  Train,  will  have  to  practise  on  the  sly.  Then,  com 
mend  me  to  him  rather  than  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the 
heroic  school. 

Robert  T.  Sherman,  of  Egremont,  is  first  lieutenant.  He 
is  twenty-five  years  of  age,  an  excellent  machinist,  and 
an  impulsive  son  of  Green  Erin  ;  a  splendid  fellow  to  lead 
in  a  forlorn  hope.  He  will  make  an  efficient  officer. 

H.  Dwight  Sissons,  mechanic  of  New  Marlboro,  occu 
pies  the  position  of  second  lieutenant.  He  is  twenty-five 
years  of  age,  unobtrusive,  faithful,  intelligent,  and  popu- 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  29 

lar.  He  will  wear  well.  You  can  count  on  him  with  but 
little  fear  of  disappointment.  Their  first  sergeant  (we 
always  call  them  orderlies),  Moses  H.  Tattle,  is  a  young 
man  of  twenty-two  years,  a  graduate  of  Yale  College,  and 
comes  from  an  excellent  family.  The  men  like  him,  and 
confide  in  him.  Captain  Train  showed  excellent  judg 
ment  in  selecting  so  worthy  an  orderly  to  have  the  super 
vision  of  as  worthy  men  as  ever  enlisted  under  any  ban 
ner.  You  remember  after  the  battle  of  Marathon,  each 
officer  was  requested  to  state  which  of  the  officers  was 
most  deserving  of  praise.  Each  man  wrote  himself  down 
as  that  worthy  one,  and  Themistocles  second.  Ask  the 
members  of  each  company  which  are  the  two  best  compa 
nies  in  the  regiment,  and  nearly  every  man  would  call  his 
own  company  the  best,  and  E  the  next  best.  By  this, 
we  really  unanimously  place  E  at  the  head  of  the  list. 
The  future  will  show  if  they  realize  the  promise  of  the 
present. 

Co.  F  came  into  camp  on  Tuesday,  September  16th. 
They  number  ninety-eight  stalwart,  respectable,  steady 
men.  I  judge  them  mainly  by  their  appearance  and  rep 
utation,  for  as  yet  I  know  but  little  concerning  them. 
They  average  in  age  twenty-five  years  and  seven  months  ; 
in  height,  five  feet  seven  and  one-half  inches. 

O         ' 

Benjamin  A.  Morey,  druggist,  of  Lee,  is  captain.  He 
is  a  man  of  forty  years  of  age,  stern  in  looks,  but  really  ge 
nial  in  life,  a  generous  friend,  a  decided  foe.  He  was  a  lieu 
tenant  in  the  Thirty-first  Mass.  Vols.,  and  bears  the  name 
of  a  strict  disciplinarian.  Of  course,  that  does  not  give 
him  a  popular  start,  but  the  experience  of  an  active  cam- 
ptiign  will  learn  us  how  to  appreciate  the  value  of  disci 
pline,  though  it  may  occasionally  be  irksome  to  us. 

Edson  T.  Dresser,  of  Stockbridge,  holds  the  position  of 
first  lieutenant.  A  desire  to  aid  in  the  quelling  of  this 
unholy  rebellion  drew  him  away  from  his  class  at  Wil 
liams1  College  to  enlist  as  a  common  soldier.  He  is  wor 
thily  popular,  and  having  the  benefit  of  the  experience  of 


30  LIFE    WITU   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

his  colleague,  will  make  an  efficient  officer.  He  is  twenty- 
two  years  of  age. 

With  the  second  lieutenant,  George  H.  Sweet,  aged 
twenty,  farmer  of  Tyringhum,  I  am  not  acquainted.  He 
is  a  gentlemanly  looking  young  man,  but  rather  too  deli 
cate  for  the  duties  that  lie  before  him.  Will  often  sup 
plies  the  absence  of  muscle;  it  may  with  him. 

John  Doolittle,  merchant  of  Monterey,  is  the  orderly  of 
this  company.  He  is  twenty-six  years  of  age,  and  will,  I 
think,  creditably  perform  the  peculiar  duties  of  his  posi 
tion.  No  company  starts  more  favorably  than  Co.  F« 
In  a  hundred  little  things,  as  well  as  in  large  things,  will 
they  see  the  benefit  of  commencing  their  military  service 
under  the  command  of  one  who  has  had  some  experience 
in  soldier  life. 

On  Friday,  the  nineteenth  instant,  ninety-nine  fine,  ro 
bust  men,  forming  Co.  G,  were  added  to  our  rapidly  in 
creasing  number.  Mainly  drawn  from  manufacturing 
communities,  they  may  not  have  the  steadiness  of  our 
farmer  boys ;  but  what  they  lack  in  that  trait,  they  make 
up  in  vivacity.  Their  average  height  is  five  feet  eight 
inches ;  their  average  age  is  twenty-three  years,  two 
months  and  two  days. 

Their  captain  is  Francis  W.  Parker,  aged  twenty- 
seven,  printer  by  trade,  and  I  believe,  for  awhile,  con 
nected  with  the  Adams  Transcript.  As  they  have  but 
just  entered  our  prolific  family,  I  am  able  to  give  you  but 
a  brief  account  of  him  and  his  associate  officers. 

Robert  B.  Harvie,  of  Williarnstown,  is  first  lieutenant. 
He  is  a  young  man  of  twenty-one  years,  painter  by  trade, 
and  has  the  appearance  of  having  much  energy  and  vim. 
He  looks  like  the  lamented  Colonel  Ellsworth,  and  is  a 
splendid  specimen  of  physical  mankind.  He  will  make  a 
popular  officer. 

The  second  lieutenant  is  Henry  M.  Lyons,  a  spinner 
in  Phillips's  Woollen  Mill  at  South  Adams.  He  is  twen 
ty-three  years  of  age,  active  and  intelligent.  He  has  a 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  31 

brother  a  sergeant  in  the  same  company.     George  South- 
wick,  of  Adams,  is  the  orderly. 

On  Thursday,  the  eighteenth,  Co.  A  was  mustered  into 
service  for  three,  months  [he  meant  for  nine  months]  by 
Captain  H.  G.  Thomas  of  the  llth  Regulur  Infantry. 
The  process  is  the  examination  of  the  rolls,  and  then  the 
mustering  officer  walks  along  the  lines  of  men  and  exam 
ines  them.  At  some  he  merely  glances ;  others  he  tries 
by  running,  and  otherwise  testing  their  wind  and  strength. 
There  is  no  appeal  from  his  decision ;  and  as  he  walks 
along  there  is  a  great  expanding  of  chest  and  rising  to 
the  fullest  height  on  the  part  of  small  men,  while  those 
who  fear  they  have  teeth  not  adequate  to  the  eating  of 
hard  bread  and  the  tearing  of  cartridges,  need  no  injunc 
tion  about  talking  in  the  ranks.  After  he  has  thus  exam 
ined  them,  throwing  out  whom  he  pleases,  with  uplifted 
hands  and  uncovered  heads,  they  si^scribe  to  the  follow 
ing  oath : 

"  You  do  solemnly  swear  that  you  will  bear  true  alle 
giance  to  the  United  States  of  America,  and  that  you 
will  serve  them  honestly  and  faithfully  against  all  their 
enemies  or  opposers  whatsoever,  and  observe  and  obey 
the  orders  of  the  President  of  the  United  States,  and 
the  orders  of  the  officers  appointed  over  you,  accord 
ing  to  the  rules  and  articles  for  the  government  of  the 
armies  of  the  United  States,  for  the  period  of  nine  months, 
unless  sooner  discharged ;  that  you  will  receive  the  pay, 
rations,  and  such  clothing  as  may  from  time  to  time  be 
allowed.  So  help  you  God !" 

After  swearing  in  the  men,  or  in  other  words  constitu 
ting  a  company,  the  officers  are  mustered  in.  Companies 
B,  C,  D,  E,  and  F  were  mustered  in  on  the  nineteenth,  and 
G  on  Sunday  the  twenty-first.  At  these  musterings,  a  few 
were  rejected,  and  some  of  them  for  seemingly  insuffi 
cient  reasons.  It  was  a  cause  of  mortification  and  sorrow 
to  them.  Some,  already  tired  of  soldiering,  refused  to 
take  the  oath.  They  were  put  under  arrest,  but  soon  re- 


32  LIFE    WITH   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

leased.  They  could  not  legally  be  held,  for  the  enlistment 
papers  they  signed,  read,  "  we  promise  to  serve  for  nine 
months  fi\nn  thi  time  of  beimj  muxhrcd  into  the  sir 
of  the  United  States"  Law  will  not  comj>el  a  man  to 
take  an  oath  ;  and  until  he  is  sworn,  he  cannot  be  mus 
tered  into  the  service. 

We  are  no  longer  a  body  without  a  head.  On  Satur 
day,  Captain  William  F.  Bartlett  assumed  command  of 
this  post.  He  belongs  to  the  Twentieth  Massachusetts 
Volunteers,  and  last  April  lost  a  leg  at  the  siege  of  York- 
town.  His  appearance  denotes  much  of  intelligent  ener 
gy,  and  his  gentlemanly  manner,  his  soldierly  bearing 
(lor  he  looks  the  soldier  even  on  crutches),  and  our  sympa 
thy  with  him  in  his  great  loss,  have  made  him  at  once  a 
universal  favorite.  We  cannot  afford  to  despise  these 
sudden  likings.  Soldiers,  having  their  individuality  ab 
sorbed  in  the  mass,  flfceir  independence  in  submission,  are 
somewhat  like  children,  and  reach  conclusions,  not  by  de 
ductions  of  logic,  but  by  their  surer  intuitions. 

Lieutenant  Francis  has  been  appointed  as  acting  quar 
termaster.  Lieutenant  Noble  is  our  acting  or  post  adju 
tant,  and  an  excellent  one  he  makes  too.  He  takes  pride 
and  pleasure  in  his  duties,  and  any  one  can  see  that  he 
enjoys  his  position.  If  these  prove  permanent  appoint 
ments,  it  will  be  promotion  for  them,  as  adjutants  and 
quartermasters  have  the  rank  of  first  lieutenants.  The 
adjutant  is  the  business  officer  of  the  regiment,  having 
supervision,  under  the  commandant,  of  all  affairs  save 
those  belonging  to  the  quartermaster's  and  medical  de 
partments. 

Thus  you  see  we  are  getting  into  running  order.  At 
present,  every  thing  runs  smoothly.  Pomeroy  and  Spring- 
stein  feed  us.  It  is  said  that  they  get  forty  cents  a  day 
for  each  man.  If  so,  they  certainly  have  a  lucrative  job. 
Our  living  is  good,  but  we  are  so  recently  from  home, 
that  we  find  fault  with  it.  It  seems  strange  to  us  to 
have  butter  but  once  or  twice  a  week,  and  to  be  con- 


Co. 


r 


Capt.  H.  D.  Tn A  ix. 
Lieut.  R.  T.  SHERMAN.  Lieut.  H.'D.  Sissoxs. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  33 

fined  to  what  we  have  always  considered  the  merest 
necessaries.  Happy  soldiers !  if  this  does  not  prove  the 
buttered  side  of  o  ur  living.  Tolerably  flushed  with  money, 
we  supplement  our  meals  at  the  sutler's  stand,  which, 
is  placed  so  conveniently  near  the  tables  as  to  lead  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  profits  of  the  former  are  in  an 
inverse  ratio  to  the  superfluities  of  the  latter.  We  march 
to  the  tables  in  military  order — there,  order  ceases ;  our 
tin  cups  and  plates  make  excellent  table  bells  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  waiters.  When  any  luxury  (?)  such 
as  butter,  cheese,  or  cake,  makes  its  appearance,  it  is 
greeted  with  three  cheers  and  a  tiger,  and  honest  criti 
cism  leads  to  groans  when  we  notice  any  great  deficiency. 
Men  are  detailed  each  day  to  help  in  the  culinary  depart 
ment.  It  is  not  conducive  to  a  vigorous  appetite  to  watch 
the  minutiae  of  that  department ;  but  one  thing  is  certain, 
the  detail  of  cooks  always  come  back  with  clean  hands. 
The  officers  have  a  mess  of  their  own,  where,  at  five  dol 
lars  per  week,  they  find  that  position  does  not  merely 
mean  honor,  but  increased  comfort  also. 

The  drum  calls  us  up  about  sunrise,  that  most  witching 
time  for  sleep.  No  parleying,  up  we  get,  springing  from  our 
planks  like  Minerva  from  Jupiter,  ready  armed  and 
clothed.  Our  hasty  ablutions  over,  we  attend  roll-call, 
and  generally  drill  an  hour  before  breakfast.  After 
breakfast,  our  streets  are  cleaned  up,  and  at  8  A.  M.  we 
have  guard  mountings.  The  guards  appointed  the  previ 
ous  morning  are  substituted  by  fresh  ones,  who  are  divid 
ed  into  three  parts,  called  reliefs.  Each  relief  serves  two 
hours  on  duty,  and  have  four  hours  for  rest,  or  as  we  call 
it,  "  two  hours  on  and  four  hours  off."  We  are  furnished 
with  rusty  fire-locks,  and  a  true  soldier  never  allows  his 
gun  to  touch  the  ground.  There  are  few  such  among  us 
yet;  and  you  might  observe  some  of  the  sentinels  lying 
down  several  feet  from  their  guns,  which,  supported  by 
the  bayonets,  gracefully  present  their  butts  to  the  sky. 
We  mean  to  be  obedient,  but  soldiering  here  seems  so' 
2*  « 


34  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

much  like  playing,  that  we  cannot  make  serious  work 
of  it. 

Under  no  circumstance  must  a  sentinel  give  up  his  gun 
but  to  an  officer  of  the  guard.  Some  officers  find  no  little 
sport  in  getting  guns  away  from  verdant,  confiding  ones, 
and  walking  oif  with  them,  leaving  the  poor  sentinel,  who 
must  not  leave  his  beat,  weaponless  to  discharge  his  duty 
and  meet  the  relief  guard.  It  is  a  quick  way  of  learning 
them  a  part  of  their  work.  Daily,  an  officer,  called  "  offi 
cer  of  the  day,"  is  appointed  to  have  supervision  of  the 
camp.  Among  his  duties,  he  visits  all  the  sentinels  at 
midnight.  He  is  saluted  by  each  sentinel  as  "  Grand 
Rounds."  A  few  evenings  ago  (the  night  was  very  dark) 
this  officer  was  making  his  midnight  tour,  and  came 
across  an  Irish  sentry,  who  understood  little  about 
"  Grand  Rounds,"  but  much  about  the  pleasure  of  being 
relieved  from  duty.  The  sentry  hailed  him,  "  Who  goes 
there  ?"  to  which  the  officer  responded,  "  Grand  Rounds !" 

Pat  broke  out,  "To with  your  Grand  Hounds !  I 

thought  it  was  the  relafe  guard."  We  have  had  many  a 
hearty  laugh  at  this  little  incident.  The  guard-posts  are 
placed  about  ten  rods  apart,  and  if  necessity  requires  the 
men  to  leave,  they  summon  the  corporal  of  the  guard  to 
take  their  place  by  crying  out,  "  Corporal  of  the  Guard, 
post  6,"  according  to  their  number ;  and  if  their  case  be 
urgent,  add,  "  double  quick."  Living  as  we  do,  mainly 
in  the  open  air,  and  under  different  dietetic  rules,  the  post 
of  "  corporal  of  the  guard"  is  not  entirely  one  of  honor  ; 
not  a  mere  sinecure.  Working  by  day,  or  resting  by 
night,  these  summonses  enable  us  to  form  some  idea  of 
the  health  of  the  regiment. 

For  two  Sabbaths  I  have  been  on  guard,  and  I  enjoyed 
it,  especially  at  night.  A  man  has  so  few  chances  to  be 
alone  while  in  camp,  that  I  could  but  hail  with  pleas 
ure  my  night-watches.  After  the  bustle  of  the  d;iy, 
there  was  something  very  soothing  in  the  quietness.  To 
be  in  the  midst  of  a  thousand  sleeping  men,  hearing 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  35 

nothing  save  the  measured  tread  of  your  fellow-sentries, 
is  like  the  solemnity  of  a  large  city  in  the  small  wee 
hours  of  the  night,  or  that  silence  which  at  times  falls 
on  a  crowd.  It  is  a  capital  place  for  reflecting  on  what 
we  are  leaving,  what  we  are  leaving  for,  what  future  we 
are  marching  into.  Sentinels,  not  only  over  a  camp,  but 
over  a  nation's  life !  Enduring  hardness  for  a  night,  that 
a  brilliant  morning  may  dawn  to  all  our  land  !  Treading 
the  measured  path  of  duty,  that  a  country  may  grow 
strong  to  step  up  to  the  right  and  the  just !  Accepting 
a  subordinate's  life,  that  equality  may  be  the  birthright 
of  all ! 

After  guard-mount,  the  detailed  cooks  go  to  their 
work ;  the  police  force  attend  to  the  cleaning  and  puri 
fication  of  the  camp  ;  the  orderlies  make  their  report  to 
the  adjutant,  and  he  to  the  commandant,  while  the  sol 
diers  lounge  around,  spending  the  time  as  they  see  fit  till 
about  ten  o'clock,  when  those  who  were  not  on  guard 
the  preceding  day,  drill  for  an  hour  or  an  hour  and  a 
half.  About  noon  we  dine ;  then,  at  two  o'clock,  comes 
another  season  of  drilling  ;  and  at  five,  "  Dress  Parade." 
This  is  the  grand  event  of  the  day.  In  two  ranks  deep 
the  whole  regiment  is  drawn  up,  and  go  through  motions 
to  resemble  the  manual  of  arms,  so  that  we  may  be  more 
handy  when  we  receive  our  arms.  Here  the  first  ser 
geants  report  the  presence  or  account  for  the  absence  of 
the  men  of  their  respective  companies  ;  then  the  ad 
jutant  reads  the  orders,  and  announces  the  details  of  offi 
cers  for  the  following  day.  "  Dress  Parade"  implies  that 
every  man  should  have  on  his  best  uniform.  On  fatigue 
duty,  carelessness  and  comfort  are  the  rules,  but  woe  to 
that  unlucky  wight  who  manifests  a  greater  love  of  ease 
and  comfort  than  harmonizes  with  the  commandant's 
idea  of  military  propriety  and  carriage  !  A  sharp  rebuke, 
an  extra  term  of  guard  duty,  or  an  appropriation  of  the 
lock-up  to  his  special  use,  convinces  him,  that  in  becoming 
.a  soldier  for  the  common  benefit,  he  has  resigned  many  of 


36  LIFE   WITH   THE    FORTY-XINTH 

the  common  rights  and  conveniences  of  life.  Our  boys 
look  more  like  Falstaff's  soldiers  than  the  pride  of  Berk 
shire.  Uncle  Sam  having  furnished  us  no  uniforms,  and 
we  having  a  regard  to  economy,  appear  not  only  in  garbs 
of  every  color,  shape,  and  fashion,  but  of  every  quality 
from  indifferent  to  shabby.  If  "  dress"  has  reference  to 
beauty  and  harmony  with  the  occasion,  ours  is  hardly  a 
"  dress"  parade  ;  but  if  that  word  implies  an  infinite 
variety i  we  can  challenge  the  nation  to  produce  our  su 
perior.  Dress  parade  is  followed  by  supper,  and  after  that 
we  fill  up  these  lovely  September  twilights  and  evenings 
as  we  see  fit,  with  singing  circles,  negro  melodies,  dances, 
and  occasionally  a  prayer-meeting,  till  the  drums  beat  for 
evening  roll-call,  which* is  soon  followed  by  "  taps,"  when 
lights  disappear  from  all  save  officers'  tents,  and  quiet 
rules  over  the  camp. 

The  citizens  of  the  different  towns  are  remembering 
the  officers  by  presenting  them  more  or  less  of  their  out 
fit.  Last  Saturday  evening,  Captain  We  Her  was  present 
ed  with  a  sword,  belt,  and  sash,  the  gift  of  many  friends. 
The  employes  of  the  Pittsfield  Woollen  Mills  have  made 
a  similar  presnr  t<>  Lieutenant  Clark  of  the  same  com 
pany,  while  the  inhabitants  of  Sternsville,  not  to  be  be 
hind,  have,  as  a  token  of  respect,  presented  Lieutenant 
Francis  with  a  handsome  sword,  belt,  sash,  and  revolver. 
The  presentation  speech  was  made  by  Rev.  Dr.  Porter, 
and  handsomely  responded  to  by  the  gratified  recipient. 
The  services  closed  with  prayer  and  singing,  "  My 
country !  'tis  of  thee ;  sweet  land  of  Liberty."  O !  as 
the  land  of  Liberty,  'tis  noble,  'tis  grand  to  draw  the 
sword  for  her ;  for  her,  it  is  even  swreet  to  die.  I  hope 
these  swords  may  aid  in  cutting  a  path  for  Freedom. 

Report  is  beginning  to  nominate  our  field  and  staff 
officers.  The  former,  colonel,  lieutenant-colonel,  and  ma 
jor,  are  oho  vn  by  the  line  officers;  the  latter,  adjutant, 
'[iiartormaster,  surgeon,  and  assistant-surgeon,  are  ap 
pointed  by  the  colonel,  while  the  chaplain  is  appointed 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  37 

by  the  colonel  on  the  vote  of  the  commanders  of  com 
panies.  Captain  Thomas  is  spoken  of  by  some  as  colonel. 
I  doubt  if  our  Berkshire  officers  would  vote  for  him. 
He  did  not  favorably  impress  us.  He  has  had  to  do 
with  that  class  of  soldiers  who  enlisted  before  this  war 
commenced.  Some  of  them,  were  pretty  rough.  .While 
here  he  seemed  to  forget  that  this  contest  has  called  out 
a  higher  class,  many  of  whom,  in  their  own  estimation, 
and  in  that  of  others,  are  every  whit  his  equal;  Graham 
H.  Root,  Esq.,  our  very  popular  high  sheriff,  could 
doubtless  have  the  post,  but  he  says  he  is  not  a  military 
man,  and  don't  want  it.  "We  all  wish  it  might  be  our 
lot  to  serve  under  him,  for  we  would  then  have  a  colonel 
to  whom  obedience  would  be  a  pleasure.  Captain  Sum- 
ner  is  spoken  of  as  major,  lieutenant-colonel,  or  colonel ; 
and  from  all  I  hear,  he  can  have  his  choice,  but  he  thinks 
the  prosperity  of  the  regiment  would  be  better  promoted 
by  choosing  a  .commander  from  outside.  He  is  more 
than  half  right  there.  L.  H.  Gamwell,  Esq.,  of  Pittsfield, 
is  mentioned  in  the  same  connection.  If  he  has  the  re 
quisite  military  qualifications,  Berkshire  would  feel  safe 
in  intrusting  her  sons  to  his  care.  After  all,  the  material 
for  a  colonel  may  be  found  in  our  own  camp.  Two  legs 
are  very  valuable,  but  great  battles  have  been  won  by 
those  who  could  boast  of  but  one. 


38  LIFE  WITH  THE  FORTY-NINTH. 

LETTER    VI. 

CAMP  BRIGGS,  MASS.,  September  29,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L.  : 

We  are  here  yet,  and  no  talk  about  our  leaving.  We 
are  waiting  to  fill  up  the  regiment.  The  Eighth  company 
(H)  came  into  camp  Monday,  September  22,  from  the 
southern  part  of  the  county,  and  has  in  it  men  of  ster 
ling  worth,  some  of  the  best  of  their  respective  towns. 
Its  roll  shows  ninety-one  men,  averaging  in  age  twenty- 
three  years,  ten  months  and  five  days  ;  and  in  height,  five 
feet  seven  and  one-sixth  inches. 

The  captain  is  A.  V.  Shannon,  of  Lee,  aged  twenty- 
six  years.  His  profession  is  that  of  teacher.  He  is  a 
gentleman  of  many  accomplishments,  and  has  had  the 
benefit  of  some  experience  in  the  rebel  service.  The  be 
ginning  of  the  rebellion  found  him  teaching  music  in 
Texas.  That  business  failing  him,  he  obtained  a  position 
as  clerk  on  board  of  a  vessel  afterwards  engaged  in  the 
rebel  blockade.  Fortunately  for  him,  it  was  captured  by 
one  of  our  blockading  squadron,  and  with  the  crew 
brought  to  New  York,  where,  establishing  his  loyalty 
to  our  flag,  he  was  set  free.  Active,  energetic,  resolute, 
I  think  he  will  make  an  excellent  officer. 

The  first  lieutenant  is  Burton  D.  Deming,  of  Sandis- 
field.  He  is  one  of  our  most  reliable  farmers,  aged*- 
thirty-one  years.  He  is  a  quiet,  unobtrusive  man,  but 
of  the  firmest  principles.  As  a  matter  of  Christian  duty, 
he  leaves  wife  and  home  for  the  toils  and  dangers  of  the 
army.  An  early  death  may  be  his ;  but  let  it  come  when 
it  may,  by  disease  or  bullet,  I  feel  sure  that  it  will  be  the 
death  of  a  true  soldier  of  Freedom.  He  is  of  the  stuff 
that  enters  not  into  the  making  of  shirkers  and  cowards. 

Dr.  Witt  S.  Smith,  of  Lee,  is  the  second  lieutenant. 


Lieut.  E.  T.  DRESSER. 


Capt.  B.  A.  MOREY. 


Lie  at.  J.  Doo  LITTLE. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  39 

He  is  an  active,  intelligent  young  man  of  twenty-two 
years  of  age,  a  book-keeper  at  home,  and  will  make  a 
good  officer. 

Joseph  B.  Wolcott,  of  Sandisfield,  is  the  orderly  of  the 
company.  He  is  a  young  man,  twenty-four  years  old,  of 
unblemished  character.  The  intimate  friend  of  Lieuten 
ant  Deming,  he  is  of  the  same  type  of  character,  and  we 
can  confidently  predict  for  him  an  honorable  career. 

The  papers  of  the  past  week  inform  us  that  the  Presi 
dent  has  again  refused  to  receive  negro  soldiers,  though 
pressed  on  his  acceptance  by  the  conservative  Governor 
Sprague,  of  Rhode  Island,  and  that  he  has  issued  a  pro 
clamation,  dated  September  22d,  1863,  declaring  free 
dom  to  all  slaves  of  rebel  masters,  who  shall  live  in  dis 
tricts  that  do  not,  as  an  evidence  of  their  loyalty,  send 
representatives  to  Congress  by  the  first  of  January,  1863. 
Well,  old  Abe  is  a  strange  man.  Offering  a  bribe  for  the 
return  of  rebels  to  their  allegiance,  may  make  the  refusal 
of  negro  soldiers  necessary,  and  I  think  the  President,  in 
his  heart,  says,  "  Look  here !  rebels !  I  give  you  one 
more  chance  to  repent.  I  dislike  slavery,  but  I  dislike 
disunion  and  war  more.  Now,  I  have  offered  to  buy  your 
slaves,  so  that  you  might  come  back  to  your  loyalty  full- 
handed.  I  have  refused  to  increase  your  causeless  irri 
tation,  by  enlisting  the  negroes ;  but,  mark  me,  if  you 
are  not  in  the  Union  by  the  first  of  next  January,  I  am 
done  with  offers  of  mercy,  and  I  will  not  only  declare 
your  slaves  free,  but  I  will  put  arms  into  the  hands  of 
every  one  willing  to  use  them,  be  he  white,  red,  black, 
or  cream-colored,  free  or  bond."  If  this  be  his  meaning, 
I  am  willing  to  wait  and  trust  him.  Notwithstanding 
the  anomalousness  of  the  wliole  proceeding,  I  am  far 
from  looking  at  it  as  a  mere  brutum  fiilmen.  It  is  the 
President's  lingering  farewell  to  the  conservatives,  and 
his  "  All  hail  radicals  !"  If  he  be  sustained  in  'the  com 
ing  elections,  all  right ;  but  if  he  be  not  sustained,  and 
the  rebels  do  not  return  to  their  allegiance  by  the  first 


40  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

of  January  (and  of  course  they  will  not,  if  the  elections 
show  a  ilir'nlcd  North),  what  then  ?  His  word  is  pledged 
— will  he  recant  ?  Has  he  ever  forfeited  that  word  ?  ever 
taken  any  Backward  steps  ?  Never!  and  I  try  to  believe 
that  he  will  bo  faithful  in  this  grand  hour.  If  Mr.  Lin 
coln  sfto'dil  violate  his  promise,  Europe  would  see  as 
much,  if  not  more,  hope  for  the  slave  in  the  success  of 
the  South  than  in  our  success,  and  a  speedy  recognition 
of  the  Confederacy  would  be  the  result.  Recant !  and 
the  South  can  readily  enlist,  by  sympathy  and  by  arms, 
the  services  of  the  negroes.  Emancipation  must  come. 
Certainly,  the  first  of  January  will  see  no  representatives 
of  rebeldom  in  our  congressional  halls.  The  President 
has  taken  the  decisive  step  ;  every  bridge  is  burned  be 
hind  him.  Truly,  his  war-cry  must  be  "Liberty,  or 
Death  !"  Our  pilot  is  stepping  up  to  the  great  principles 
involved  in  this  struggle,  and  we  will  find  that  God  will 
clothe  us  with  more  earnestness,  as  each  man  puts  to 
himself  this  question : 

"If  Heaven  should  lose,  and  Hell  should  win, 
•  On  whom  shall  lie  the  mortal  sin  ?" 

Ah !  that  is  the  question.  Give  us  men  who  feel,  to 
the  very  core  of  their  natures,  that  the  issue  is  between 
heaven  losing,  and  hell  winning,  and  not  Cromwell's 
Ironsides  will  equal  us.  It  is  an  issue  between  Right  and 
Wrong,  between  Good  and  Evil,  God  and  Satan.  The 
moral  power  is  what  we  want.  Then  our  hardships  will 
t>e  sweet,  and  our  death-beds,  though  on  the  gory  sod, 
be  more  enviable,  more  precious,  than  ever  vouchsafed  to 
warriors.  Through  shameful  blunders,  through  seas  of 
wasted  blood,  God  will  yet  bring  the  nation,  to  whom 
He  has  showed  such  long-suffering,  where  the  breezes  of 
Freedom  refresh  every*  soul.  Then,  we  may  look  back- 
to  the  dreary  days  of  1862,  to  the  irrave-crowded  Penin 
sula,  and  thank  Him  for  deferring  success  till  success 
meant  not  only  the  preservation  of  the  Union,  but  of  the 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  41 

divine  Spirit  living  in  and  animating  that  Union.  In  view 
of  this,  I  greet  our  martyred  dead,  counting  not  their 
seemingly  wasted  lives  a  loss,  or  too  great  a  price  for  the 
assurance  that  Freedom  is  always  safe  in  the  Union.  To 
make  this  an  eternal  verity,  I  am  full  willing  to  swell 
the  number  of  the  slaughtered  dead.  In  "  hopes  nursed 
in  tears,"  I  sing  : 

"  Sail  on  1  0  Union,  strong  and  great  I 
Humanity,  with  all  its  fears, 
"With  all  the  hopes  of  future  years, 
Is  hanging  breathless  on  thy  fate. 
In  spite  of  rock  and  tempest's  roar, 
In  spite  of  false  lights  on  the  shore, 
Sail  on,  nor  fear  to  breast  the  sea : 
Our  hearts,  our  hopes,  our  prayers,  our  tears, 
Our  faith  triumphant  o'er  our  fears, 
Are  all  with  thee,  are  all  with  thee." 

To  return.  Mr.  Peter  Springstein,  of  the  United  States 
Hotel,  will  go  with  us  as  sutler.  It  may  be  a  lucrative  po 
sition,  but  not  a  pleasant  one.  In  order  to  make  it  pay, 
he  must  sell  his  goods  at  a  large  profit.  An  inroad  of 
the  enemy,  a  capture  of  a  sutler's  vessel,  may  swallow  up 
the  profits  of  months.  Men  forget  the  risks,  the  losses, 
and  only  remember  the  big  holes  sutlers'  goods  at  sut 
lers'  prices  make  in  their  thirteen  dollars  a  month.  Mr. 
Springstein  is  a  gentlemanly  and  generous  man,  and  I 
wish  him  success  as  sutler  to  the  Forty-ninth. 

Dr.  J.  H.  Manning,  of  Pittsfield,  is  acting  as  regimental 
surgeon.  Perchance  he  may  go  with  us.  He  is  a  kind 
man,  and  would  sympathize  with  the  sick.  Sometimes 
sympathy  is  worth  more  than  drugs.  Dr.  K.  C.  Stiles 
has  the  general  medical  superintendence  of  the  post.  He 
is  my  beau  ideal  of  an  army  surgeon. 

Well,  we  have  now  a  quartermaster's  department.  G. 
E.  Howard,  of  Lanesboro,  is  acting  quartermaster  ser 
geant.  He  is  a  sergeant  in  Co.  A,  and  a  very  fine  pen 
man.  Finding  there  was  no  military  aptitude  in  me,  I 


42  LIFE   WITH   THE   FORTY-XINTH 

have  entered  this  department  as  commissary  sergeant. 
H.  H.  Northup,  of  Cheshire,  a  corporal  in  Co.  C,  one  of 
the  soldiers  of  Wilson's  Creek,  Missouri,  G.  E.  Callen- 
der,  Co.  E,  a  faithful  boy  of  nineteen,  and  D.  C.  Patter 
son,  also  of  Co.  E,  our  butcher,  a  sui  yeneris,  make  up 
the  number,  who,  under  Lieutenant  Francis,  run  this 
machine. 

Army  blankets,  coarse,  gray,  and,  we  hope,  woollen, 
have  been  given  to  the  men.  They  are  not  entirely 
guiltless  of  shoddy,  and  if  they  last  us  nine  months,  we 
will  speak  better  of  them  then  than  we  do  now.  If  you  lie 
down  on  them,  your  clothes  look  as  if  you  had  been 
sleeping  with  a  dozen  cats. 

We  now  receive  our  subsistence  directly  from  the  United 
States  and  cook  it  ourselves.  Each  company  has  a  cook 
and  an  assistant  cook,  who  are  relieved  from  all  other  du 
ties.  They  are  generally  assisted  by  a  daily  detail  of 
two  men.  In  addition  to  these  there  is  one  styled  the 
commissary  of  the  company.  It  is  his  duty  to  see  that 
the  company  gets  its  prescribed  rations,  to  sell  what  they 
do  not  use,  placing  the  proceeds  in  the  hands  of  the  cap 
tain  as  treasurer  of  the  company's  fund.  He  is  relieved 
from  guard  duty  and  from  all  other  duties  which  would 
embarrass  him  in  his  work  as  commissary.  Massachu 
setts  gives  each  man  a  tin  plate,  cup,  spoon,  and  a  knife 
and  fork.  In  the  regular  service  and  from  most  other 
states,  the  soldiers  have  to  furnish  themselves  with  these 
necessaries.  Some  companies  serve  out  the  cooked  ra 
tions  to  each  man  separately,  while  others  place  them  on 
tables  for  common  use.  Each  soldier  keeps  his  own  eat 
ing  utensils  clean,  or  by  a  small  monthly  gratuity  to  the 
cook,  reWeves  himself  of  that  unpleasant  task.  We  live 
well.  Government  gives  us  plenty  of  food  and  some  of 
our  cooks  are  real  experts.  Come  and  dine  at  Hotel  B 
or  D  or  E,  and  you  will  get  a  meal  that  needs  not  the 
novelty  of  camp  life  to  make  it  relish.  It  is  wonderful 
how  much  the  boys  eat.  Living  out  doors  sharpens  the 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  43 

appetite.  Butter,  pies,  cakes,  pickles,  and  many  other 
luxuries  not  furnished  by  our  kind  Uncle  Sam,  grace 
our  tables.  Our  friends  bring  or  send  so  many  home 
comforts  that  we  must  needs  get  away  from  Berkshire 
before  we  can  learn  any  of  the  privations  of  soldiers'  life. 
Companies  D  and  E  are  the  most  favored  in  that  re 
spect.  Beef,  fresh  or  corned,  and  fine  beef  it  is,  furnished 
by  D.  and  W.  Sprague,  is  dealt  out  five  days  in  the  week. 
The  other  two  days  we  fall  back  on  the  soldiers'  friend — 
salt  pork.  Mr.  H.  B.  Brews,ter  brings  each  man  daily  a 
loaf  of  fresh  bread. 

The  government  ration  is  as  follows.     Bear  in  mind  a 

O 

ration  is  one  day's  food  for  one  man.  One  and  a  quarter 
pound  of  fresh  or  salt  beef,  or  three  quarters  of  a  pound 
of  pork,  twenty-two  ounces  of  soft  bread  or  flour,  or  six 
teen  ounces  of  hard  bread,  or  one  and  a  quarter  pound 
corn  meal,  eight  quarts  of  beans  to  'one  hundred  men, 
ten  pounds  of  rice,  eight  pounds  of  roasted  coffee  or  a 
pound  a  half  of  tea,  fifteen  pounds  of  sugar,  one  and  one- 
fourth  pound  of  adamantine  candles,  four  pounds  of  soap, 
two  quarts  of  salt,  three  pecks  of  potatoes,  and  a  quart 
of  molasses.  Suppose  a  family  of  four  men  feeding  at 
this  rate,  and  they  would  use  in  a  year  eighteen  hundred 
and  twenty  pounds  of  beef  or  one  thousand  and  ninety- 
six  pounds  of  pork,  three  bushels  and  twenty  quarts  of 
beans,  one  hundred  and  fifty-five  pounds  of  rice,  one 
hundred  and  seventeen  pounds  of  coffee  or  twenty-two 
pounds  of  tea,  two  hundred  and  nineteen  pounds  of  su 
gar,  fourteen  and  a  half  pounds  of  adamantine  candles,  fif 
ty-eight  pounds  of  soap,  twenty-nine  quarts  of  salt,  ten 
and  a  half  bushels  of  potatoes,  four  gallons  of  molasses, 
besides  two  thousand  and  seven  pounds. (over  ten  barrels) 
of  bread  or  flour.  Can  the  men  eat  all  their  rations  ? 
Used,  as  they  would  be  at  home,  No  ;  as  they  are  in  our 
camp,  No  ;  as  they  are  in  active  service,  Yes.  Soldiers 
cannot  save  as  soldiers'1  wives  could.  Waste,  there  will 
be.  The  government  provides  for  that  waste.  The  ra- 


44  LIFE   WITH   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

tions  a  company  does  not  see  fit  to  draw  are  credited  to 
them  and  they  receive  money  in  lieu  thereof.  I  know  of 
companies  that  have  added  one  hundred  dollars  a  month  by 
these  savings  to  their  company  fund.  Do  they  really  get 
these  rations  ?  If  they  do  not,  it  is  the  fault  of  their  com 
missaries.  Any  intelligent  man  can,  without  scales,  soon 
learn  the  amount  due  his  company.  When  before  the  ene 
my,  I  do  not  suppose  they  get  half  this  variety,  but,  by 
proper  management,  they  caij  get  money  in  lieu  of  the  de 
ficiency. 

Who  shall  be  our  colonel  is  a  question  much  discussed 
among  officers  and  men.  If  Captain  Bartlett  can  be 
weaned  from  his  old  regiment  (I  understand  he  can  have 
the  command  of  that  if  he  desires  it),  he  will  be  our  col 
onel.  Report  says  he  is  Captain  Sumner's  choice,  and, 
as  he  has  virtually  declined  a  nomination  to  that  office, 
/i  iff  choice  will  be  apt  to  be  the  choice  of  all.  I  learn 
that  Captain  Bartlett  has  no  idea  of  abandoning  the  pro 
fession  of  arms,  but  will  return  to  the  field  as  soon  as  he 
is  able  to  use  an  artificial  leg.  The  following  article, 
written  by  one  prominent  in  civil  and  military  life,  as 
originally  published  in  the  Boston  Courier,  is  now  read 
by  us  with  great  interest : 

"  In  the  month  of  April,  1861,  soon  after  Fort  Sumter 
had  fallen,  and  Colonel  Jones's  regiment  had  been  attacked 
in  the  streets  of  Baltimore,  the  Fourth  Battalion  of  In 
fantry  was  called  upon  to  garrison  Fort  Independence  in 
Boston  harbor.  On  Thursday,  the  25th  of  April,  the 
battalion  left  their  armory,  and  marched  through  crowd 
ed  streets,  and  under  countless  flags,  to  the  boat  which 
was  to  take  them  to  the  fort.  In  the  janks  marched  a 
young  man  named  Bartlett,  a  member  of  the  Junior  class 
in  Harvard  College.  During  the  month  passed  by  the 
battalion  at  the  fort,  his  rapid  progress  in  learning,  and 
his  promptness  and  fidelity  in  practising  the  duties  of  a 
soldier,  his  carriage  under  arms,  and  the  manly  character 
he  displayed,  attracted  the  attention  of  the  officers.  A 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  45 

few  weeks  after  the  battalion  had  returned  from  the  fort, 
Massachusetts  was  answering  the  call  of  the  General  Gov 
ernment  for  volunteers,  and  the  command  of  a  regiment 
was  offered  to  Colonel  Wm.  Raymond  Lee.  He  accepted 
the  office,  and  was  permitted  to  nominate  officers  to  raise 
two  companies  to  complete  his  regiment.  Such  was  the 
impression  that  Bartlett, — the  young  Cambridge  student, 
the  private  in  the  ranks  of  the  Fourth  Battalion,  had  pro 
duced,  that  Colonel  Lee  was  advised  to  nominate  him  for 
one  of  the  two  vacant  captaincies.  He  did  so,  and  the 
nomination  was  approved,  and  Captain  Bartlett,  with  the 
assistance  of  Lieutenant,  now  Captain  Macy,  and  Lieu 
tenant  Abbott,  raised  a  company.  The  regiment,  since 
known  as  the  Twentieth,  marched  into  camp  at  Read- 
ville,  on  the  10th  of  July,  and  there  remained  till  the 
4th  of  September,  when  it  started  for  the  seat  of  war. 
The  officers'  commissions  were  dated  on  the  same  day, 
and,  shortly  before  leaving  Readville,  their  regimental 
rank  was  assigned  by  Colonel  Lee,  after  consultation  with 
his  field  and  staff  officers.  Their  estimate  of  the  merits 
of  Captain  Bartlett,  was  shown  by  the  fact  that  he  was 
named  senior  captain,  and  his  company,  therefore,  took 
the  right  flank  of  the  regiment. 

"  For  six  weeks  after  the  regiment  reached  the  seat  of 
war,  there  was  little  of  interest  in  its  history.  One  day 
was  much  like  another.  Captain  Bartlett's  discharge  of 
all  the  duties  of  his  position  was  thorough,  his  care  of  his 
men  was  scrupulous  and  devoted.  Neither  he  nor  any 
other  officer  of  the  regiment,  had  any  opportunity  to  dis 
tinguish  himself. 

"  On  the  21st  of  October,  he  commanded  his  company 
in  the  affair  of  Ball's  Bluff.  There  are  plenty  of  witness 
es  to  the  gallantry  and  coolness  with  which  he  led  his 
men  in  that  trying  day.  There  are  many  who  know  that 
when  the  field  seemed  lost  beyond  redemption,  when  few 
of  our  troops  were  left  on  the  field,  and  none  in  order, 
Captain  Bartlett,  hoping  against  hope,  rallied  men  enough 


46  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

for  one  more  effort,  and  charged  with  them  upon  the 
enemy's  line,  till,  in  the  twilight  of  smoke  and  the  shadow 
of  trees,  they  could  see  the  color  of  the  clothes  of  their 
opponents,  and  were  driven  back  by  the  blasting  fire  of 
those  well-ordered  troops. 

"  When  the  twilight  was  deepening,  and  the  fire  of  the 
enemy  from  the  heights  and  the  dread  of  the  rushing  river 
were^  combined  to  drive  to  despair  the  beaten  few  who 
were  collected  on  the  shore,  Captain  Bartlett  and  Captain 
Tremlett,  and  Lieutenant  Whittier  and  Lieutenant  Ab 
bott,  all  of  the  Twentieth,  collected  about  eighty  men, 
only  twenty  of  whom  belonged  to  their  own  regiment, 
and  led  them  up  the  river  and  along  its  banks.  At  about 
a  mile  from  the  battle  ground,  in  the  race  of  a  flour  mill, 
they  found  a  crazy  sunken  boat.  They  caused  this  to  be 
bailed  out,  and  found  it  would  hold  five.  Captain  Trem 
lett  and  one  lieutenant  put  the  men  into  an  old  barn  near 
by,  and  kept  them  quiet  there.  Captain  Bartlett  sent 
the  other  lieutenant  across  with  the  first  load,  to  take 
charge  of  the  men  as  they  arrived,  and  stood  alone  upon 
the  bank  to  superintend  the  tedious  transportation,  The 
rapid  current  delayed  the  clumsy,  heavy  boat,  the  dark 
ness  of /he  night  increased  the  difficulty  of  bringing  it  back 
to  the  point  from  which  it  started.  Not  less  than  six 
teen  trips  were  made  before  those  gallant  officers  crossed 
themselves,  in  the  last  trip  it  made.  Let  it  be  remem 
bered  that  these  officers,  wearied  by  the  sleepless  night 
of  Sunday,  the  alternate  suspense  and  fighting  of  Mon 
day,  distressed  by  defeat,  and  the  belief  that  their  friends 
and  comrades  were  dead  or  prisoners,  waited,  within 
sound  of  the  enemy's  musketry,  expecting  every  moment 
the  swoop  of  cavalry,  waited  for  hours,  till  a  boat  that 
was  little  better  than  water-logged  and  oarless,  had  made 
many  trips,  and  they  had  saved  eighty  men,  of  whom 
three-quarters  were  utter  strangers  to  them  and  to  their 
regiment. 
"Colonel  Lee  and  Major  Revere  were  taken  prisoners  on 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  47 

the  eveDing  of  that  day.  When  Captain  Bartlett  awoke 
the  next  morning,  he  found  himself  in  command  of  the 
camp,  his  only  superior  officer  having  been  ordered  across 
the  river,  with  all  his  disposable  effective  force,  by  General 
Lander.  He  remained  in  command  during  the  whole  of 
the  22d  and  23d,  and  part  of  the  24th,  when  he  was  re 
lieved  by  the  return  of  the  lieutenant-colonel  of  the  re 
giment.  His  action  during  this  interval  was  wise  and 
salutary.  It  showed  thoughtfulness  beyond  his  years. 
Besides  the  many  wounded  who  were  brought  in,  unhurt 
officers  and  men  arrived  by  onee,  twos,  and  threes,  and 
two  whole  companies  returned,  which  had  not  been  en 
gaged.  By  a  partial  resumption  of  the  usual  routine  of 
the  camp,  with  a  just  allowance  for  the  mental  and  phys 
ical  fatigue  of  the  men,  and  judicious  employment  of  the 
band,  Captain  Bartlett  changed,  in  a  measure,  the  cur 
rent  of  the  thoughts  of  the  men ;  he  broke  up  any  ten 
dency  to  depression  of  spirits,  and  introduced  a  cheerful 
tone,  of  which  he  himself  set  a  signal  example. 

"  The  assistance  rendered  by  Captain  Bartlett  to  the 
commanding  officer  from  that  time,  was  of  the  very  high 
est  value,  and  was  recognized  as  such  by  him  and  by  the 
regiment.  He  possessed  a  singular  natural  aptitude  for 
the  profession  of  arms,  and  the  fidelity  with  which  he  ap 
plied  himself,  made  him  rapidly  master  of  all  the  knowl 
edge  that  was  necessary  in  his  position,  and  of  much  for 
which  there  would  have  been  occasion  in  a  much  higher 
one.  His  power  of  imparting  knowledge  was  equal  to 
his  power  of  acquiring  it,  and  he  was  alike  remarkable 
for  his  accuracy  in  details,  and  for  the  ease  with  which 
he  grasped  general  principles,  and  the  readiness  with 
which  he  applied  them.  His  services  to  the  20th  regi 
ment,  as  an  instructor  and  as  an  example,  are  such  as  it 
is  impossible  to  estimate  too  highly. 

"  On  Thursday,  April  24th,  1862,  one  year  from  the  day 
when  the  4th  battalion  went  to  Fort  Independence,  the 
20th  Massachusetts  Volunteers  relieved  another  regiment 


48  LIFE   WITH   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

in  guarding  a  portion  of  the  lines  before  Yorktown. 
AYhile  visiting  the  advanced  posts,  Captain  Bartlett  was 
shot  in  the  left  knee,  and  the  knee-joint  and  a  portion  of 
the  bone  of  the  lower  leg  was  shattered  and  destroyed. 
Ills  leg  was  presently  amputated,  and  he  was  sent  north 
ward  to  be  under  the  care  of  his  friends. 

"  One  year  from  the  day  when  this  gallant  soldier  first 
bore  arms,  saw  his  military  career  suddenly  checked. 
With  the  attachment  and  admiration  that  are  felt  for 
him  in  his  regiment,  the  public  has  little  to  do ;  nor  need 
wo  dwell  upon  the  peculiar  sadness  of  such  a  misfor 
tune  to  one  who  was  so  conspicuous  for  the  beauty  of  the 
tall,  straight  figure,  which  was  gaining  strength  and  ful- 
ne-s  every  day.  It  is  his  comrades  who  miss  the  glance 
of  the  clear  blue  eye,  the  sweet  smile,  the  erect  carriage, 
the  voice,  cheery  in  talk,  powerful  and  full  of  dignity 
in  giving  the  word  of  command.  But  it  is  right  that 
the  public  should  know  that  the  officer  who,  with  the 
rank  of  Captahi,  not  in  battle,  not  even  in  a  skirmish,  has 
been  maimed  for  life  in  the  siege  of  Yorktown, — was  a 
soldier  of  the  most  brilliant  promise — a  man  wTho,  before 
his  classmates  had  taken  their  degrees  at  Cambridge,  has 
served  his  country  nearly  a  year  ;  has  led  men  gallantly, 
and  saved  men  nobly  on  the  darkest  day  the  war  has 
brought ;  and  wrho,  in  all  the  time  of  his  bearing  arms, 
and  in  a  regiment  that  has  suffered  more  than  any  other 
in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  has  set  to  every  one  around 
him  a  shining  example  of  every  soldierly  excellence. 

Perchance  some  of  the  above  should  be  ascribed  to  the 
blindness  of  affection,  and  some  to  the  tenderness  that  is 
always  felt  for  a  great  affliction.  Grant  that,  and  yet 
there  remains  much  for  a  foundation  of  our  confidence  in 
Captain  Bartlett.  Fresh  from  Harvard  University,  en 
tering  the  service  as  a  private,  raised  in  Boston  where 
he  has  influential  friends, — these  may  have  led  to  his  ap 
pointment  as  Captain  in  the  Twentieth  Massachusetts 
Volunteers ;  but  a  wise  man  like  Colonel  Wm.  Raymond 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  49 

Lee,  having  command  of  a  crack  regiment,  and  a  mili 
tary  reputation  to  establish,  would  not  have  selected  and 
appointed  him  senior  captain,  unless  convinced  that  he 
was  worthy  of  the  position.  That  alone  would  warrant 
his  election  to  the  colonelcy  of  the  Forty-ninth.  That  he 
has  a  natural  aptitude  for  military  life,  every  obsewer 
would  declare.  As  few  men,  he  looks  the  soldier. 
Though  quiet,  there  is  an  air  of  command  about  him 
that  would  make  obedience  to  his  orders  almost  involun 
tary.  His  college  associates  say  that  he  surpassed  them 
all  in  military  studies.  True,  he  is  young,  only  twenty- 
two  years  of  age,  but  age  is  not  always  wisdom,  nor 
youth  always  folly.  We  have  made  up  our  minds  to  fol 
low  our  leader,  whomsoever  he  may  be,  wise  in  us,  see 
ing  that  we  cannot  do  otherwise,  but  Colonel  Bartlett 
we  could  follow  with  an  enthusiastic  pride. 

We  are  all  happy  in  camp.  Our  duties  are  so  novel, 
that  they  are  performed  with  pleasure,  and  the  magnifi 
cent  weather,  the  presence  of  our  friends  and  of  hosts 
of  visitors,  conspire  to  make  the  days  glide  away  as  a 
pleasant  dream.  O !  how  yearningly  will  we  recall 
these  days  when  meeting  the  sufferings  and  dangers  of 
real  war. 


50  LIFE    WITI1    THE    K'KTV-MNTll 


LETTER    VII. 

CAMP  BRIQGS,  MASS.,  October  6,  1862. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

Yesterday,  the  gifted  Major  W.  I).  Sedg  \vick,  of  Len 
ox,  was  buried.  He  fell  in  the  ruinous  victory  at  Antic- 
tarn.  Amid  the  surges  of  battle,  with  his  dying  strength, 
lie  wrote  in  his  memorandum  book,  "I  have  tried  to  do 
my  duty."  The  army  has  lost  a  brave  and  skilful  sol 
dier,  the  nation  an  earnest  patriot,  and  the  Forty-ninth  an 
excellent  colonel ;  for,  had  he  lived,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  he  would  have  been  chosen  to  fill  that  position.  Co. 
A  acted  as  the  guard  of  honor  at  the  burial,  while  Cap 
tains  Sumner,  Weller,  Garlick,  Plimkott,  and  Lieutenants 
Francis,  Kniffin,  Wells,  Tucker,  Smith,  officiated  as  pall 
bearers.  They  buried  him  at  close  of  day.  The  sun  was 
setting,  and  the  moon  just  rising.  It  was  a  solemn  scene, 
one  long  to  be  remembered.  There  was  the  dead  hero, 
and  there  the  Forty-ninth  going  forth  as  he  had  gone, 
some  of  them  perchance  to  be  brought  back  like  him. 

We  have  now  a  chapel  of  our  own.  It  is  half  chapel, 
half  guard-house.  As  the  guard  is  required  to  be  about 
the  guard-house  the  whole  of  their  respective  twenty-four 
hours,  not  spent  on  their  beats,  it  has  added  much  to 
their  comfort,  but  proved  a  comparative  failure  for  devo 
tional  purposes.  I  have  heard  of  religious  services  in 
prisons  and  theatres ;  this  is  our  prison  (in  one  end  there 
is  a  lock-up)  and  theatre  ;  and  surely  here,  those  services 
are  not  impressive.  Scarce  a  month  of  camp  life  has 
rolled  away,  and  I  fancy  I  can  see  some  signs  of  moral 
deterioration.  Prudery  is  not  a  camp  vice ;  things  are 
called  by  their  plainest  names,  and  the  giving  up  of  that 
delicacy  and  refinement  of  speech,  observed,  more  or  less, 


Co. 


Capt.  F.  AV.   PARKKR. 


Lieut.  R,  B. 


Lieut  IT.  M.  T.VONS. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  51 

by  all  at  home,  is  preparing  the  way  for  obscenity  and 
profanity. 

The  past  week  has  been  enlivenec^by  a  number  of  pre 
sentations  to  officers.  On  the  evening  of  September  30th 
there  was  quite  a  gathering  at  the  office  of  Colt  and  Pin- 
v  gree,  when  Mr.  Pingree,  in  behalf  of  the  donors,  present 
ed  to  Captain  Garlick  a  handsome  sword,  sash,  belt,  re 
volver,  and  a  pair  of  richly  gilded  shoulder-straps,  on  re 
ceiving  which  the  captain  made  an  appropriate  speech. 
At  the  instance  of  Messrs.  Rathbun,  Lieutenant  Wells 
of  Co.  C  was  presented  with  sword,  sash,  belt  and  pis 
tol.  Messrs.  L.  H.  Gamwell,  and  W.  R.  Plunkett,  spoke 
at  the  presentation.  The  people  of  Stockbridge  showed 
their  appreciation  of  Lieutenant  Dresser  of  Co.  F,  by 
similar  presents,  as  also  did  the  good  people  of  Egre- 
mont  and  Mill  River  to  Lieutenants  Sherman  and  Sissons 
of  Co.  E. 

We  have  a  theory  that  soldier  life  implies  hardship  and 
privation.  To  have  more  than  a  theory  Captain  Bartlett 
will  have  to  exclude  the  numerous  crinolined  sutlers  that 
throng  the  camp,  invade  our  tents,  and  who  ask  no  rec 
ompense  but  a  hearty  devouring  of  the  home  delicacies 
they  bring.  Lift  up  certain  boards  in  our  tent  floors, 
and  you  will  find  that  we  are  quite  independent  of  the 
recognized  sutler,  and  of  our  bountiful  friend,  Uncle 
Sam.  We  cannot  say  much  of  the  order  reigning  in  our 
pantries,  for  superabundance  renders  that  impracticable ; 
but  from  their  depths,  we  bring  pies,  cake,  cheese,  but 
ter,  milk,  pickles,  preserves,  and  other  comforts  that 
make  soldiering  in  this  delightful  weather  one  of  the 
brightest  episodes  in  our  lives.  At  breakfast  and  sup 
per,  milk  peddlers  visit  us,  and  if  it  be  true  that  "  that 
man  cannot  be  wholly  evil  who  is  fond  of  milk,"  we  show 
our  primitive  innocence  and  purity,  by  sending  the  ped 
dlers  home  with  empty  cans  and  full  purses.  One  of  our 
officers,  to  all  these  things,  says  :  "  Away  !  I'll  have  none 
of  them.  I'll  harden  myself  against  the  day  of  hardness." 


52  LIFE  WITH  TUP:  FORTY-NINTH 

And  we  say,  "  let  him  harden."  "  Sufficient  to  the  day  is 
the  evil  thereof."  I  never  knew  a  man  ln-iier  prepared  for 
abstinence  at  dinner,  by  rejecting  his  breakfast.  Success^ 
to  him,  but  I  fear  his  converts  will  be  few  until  we  bid  a 
long  adieu  to  mothers  and  sisters  and  sweethearts,  and  to 
the  lowing  kine  of  Berkshire. 

Though  Lieutenant  Francis  is  the  acting  quartermaster 
of  the  regiment,  yet  much  of  the  work  is  done  by  Mr. 
Henry  B.  Brewster,  of  Pittsfield,  who  expects  to  accom 
pany  t  lie  regiment  in  that  capacity.  I  hope  he  may,  for 
he  is  reputed  a  good  business  man,  and  honest.  It  will 
be  pleasant  for  our  friends  at  home  to  know  we  have  a 
quartermaster  who  will  not  enrich  himself,  at  the  expense 
of  our  health  and  comfort. 

We  are  getting  our  hospital  in  running  order,  though 
fortunately  we  have  but  little  need  of  it.  The  surgeons 
buy  for  the  use  of  the  sick,  all  the  delicacies  they  need. 
The  quartermaster  credits  them  with  a  ration  for  each 
man  in  hospital,  and  charges  {hem  with  what  food  they 
actually  draw.  The  value  of  the  remainder  forms  a  hos 
pital  fund,  for  the  purchasing  of  articles  of  food  not  fur 
nished  by  the  government.  Properly  managed,  there  is 
always  a  sufficiency  of  funds  to  insure  the  sick  whatever 
they  may  need  or  crave.  The  deficiency,  if  any,  will  be 
in  preparing  the  food.  In  active  service,  the  siek  may 
sutler  from  the  impossibility  of  purchasing  needed  luxu 
ries.  Every  man  who  has  not  had  the  small-pox,  or  been 
vaccinated,  is  being  vaccinated.  We.  are  providing  for 
our  safety. 


Co.    IT. 


- 


Capt.  A.  Y.  SHANNON. 
Lieut.  B.  D.  DEMiNft.       Sergeant WOLCOTT.      Lieut.  D.  S.  SMITH. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  53 


LETTER  VIII. 

CAMP  BRIGGS,  MASS.,  October  8,  1862. 
My  DEAR,  L. : 

The  ninth  company,  I,  came  into  camp  on  Wednesday, 
October  8th,  making  it  pretty  nearly  certain  that  the 
Forty-ninth  will  not  be  consolidated  with  some  other  nu 
cleus  of  a  regiment,  but  will  have  an  individual  existence 
and  a  separate  history.  Its  roll  shows  eighty-eight  men, 
average  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  and  five  feet  eight 
and  one-half  inches  in  height. 

Zenas  C.  Rennie,  of  Pittsfield,  is  captain.  His  age  is 
twenty-six  years.  If  he  shows  as  much  energy  and  per 
severance  in  commanding  as  he  has  in  raising  his  com 
pany,  he  will  be  one  of  our  very  best  officers. 

Le  Roy  S.  Kellogg,  farmer,  of  Lee,  aged  thirty-one 
years,  and  William  Nichols,  car-maker,  of  Williamstown, 
aged  twenty-four  years,  are  respectively  first  and  second 
lieutenant.  As  I  have  never  met  either  of  these  officers? 
I  am  unable  to  introduce  them  to  you.  Its  orderly  is 
James  McKenna,  of  Pittsfield. 

On  Tuesday,  the  fourteenth  instant,  Co.  K  filed  into 
the  tenth  street.  Captains  Rennie  and  Weston  have  not 
only  saved  the  Forty-ninth  from  being  smothered  in  the 
birth,  but  they  have  also  saved  the  county  the  unpleas 
antness  and  dishonor  of  a  draft.  We  welcome  this  tenth 
company,  insuring,  as  it  does,  our  regimental  life,  with 
more  joy  than  any  other  company.  It  is  worthy  of  it. 
Born  out  of  due  time,  raised  from  what  seemed  a  thor 
oughly  gleaned  county,  in  twelve  days,  it  is  not,  as  one 
might  suppose,  the  refuse,  but  rather  the  cream,  of  the 
county.  For  size,  general  appearance,  intelligence  and 
character,  it  is  not  surpassed  by  any  company  in  the  regi- 


54  LIFE    WITH    Till-: 

mcnt.  Need  I,  can  I,  say  more  ?  It  is  composed  of 
ninety-one  men,  averaging  twenty-seven  years  five 
months  and  twenty-five  days  in  age,  and  in  height  five 
feet  eight  and  one-fourth  inches. 

Byron  Weston,  nged  thirty-one  years,  is  captain.  He 
occupied  a  prominent  position  in  the  paper  house  of 
Platner  and  Smith,  Lee,  and  is  very  much  of  a  gentle 
man  ;  so  quiet  and  easy  in  his  manners,  as  to  lead  one  to 
suppose  that  his  forte  lies  outside  the  military  life  ;  but 
the  great  energy  he  manifested  in  raising  his  company 
with  no  help  from  the  selectmen  of  the  different  towns, 
shows  that  there  is  in  him  the  real  grit  of  the  soldier. 

Roscoe  C.  Taft,  aged  twenty-six  years,  merchant,  of 
Sheffield,  is  the  first  lieutenant.  He  is  a  pleasant,  active 
officer ;  and  the  large  number  of  recruits  raised  for  Ids 
company  from  Sheffield,  which  had  sent  so  many  before, 
attests  his  energy  and  popularity. 

The  second  lieutenant  is  Isaac  E.  Judd,  clerk,  from 
Egremont.  He  is  but  twenty-two  years  of  age,  but  the 
first  glance  convinces  you  he  is  a  born  soldier.  Some 
men  never  seem  at  home  in  their  regimentals;  the  "hay 
seeds  stick  to  their  collars."  Not  so  Lieutenant  Judd. 
He  wears  uniform  and  sword  as  if  he  were  born  with 
them.  Though  the  prince  of  good  fellows,  and  full  of 
animal  spirits,  yet,  on  duty,  without  swaggering,  he 
maintains  the  dignity  of  his  office,  lie  was  a  very  pop 
ular  teacher  in  one  of  the  schools  at  Harrington,  and  is  a 
superior  penman  and  accountant.  He  entered  the  regi 
ment  as  a  sergeant  in  Co.  E. 

Company  K  is  also  fortunate  in  the  selection  of  San- 
ford  B.  Gleason  for  orderly  or  first  sergeant.  He  is  a 
printer  from  Vermont,  shrewd  and  active,  and  will  look 
out  well  for  his  company  and  for  himself.  Thus  officered 
and  thus  composed,  Co.  K  starts  well.  Their  mechanical 
ingenuity  was  brought  into  play  at  once,  in  the  erection 
of  barracks,  for  we  could  obtain  no  tents  for  them.  And 
comfortable  barracks  they  are.  As  the  north-westers 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  55 

sweep  down  on  us  these  frosty  nights,  we  would  willing 
ly  exchange  our  tents  for  company  K's  barracks. 

Well,  we  are  no  longer  a  pie-bald  set,  each  one  wear 
ing  his  own  uniform,  but  we  are  clothed  in  United  States 
garments.  We  are  allowed  three  and  one-half  dollars 
per  month  for  clothing  in  addition  to  our  regular  pay. 
We  can  furnish  our  own  clothing  if  we  choose  (of  course 
it  must  be  uniform  with  that  provided  by  the  Govern 
ment),  and  be  credited  with  what  we  do  not  draw.  If 
we  draw  more  than  the  regulated  allowance,  the  excess 
is  deducted  from  our  pay.  With  the  exception  of  our 
overcoats,  we  are  well  clothed,  each  one  having  over, 
coat,  dress-coat,  and  blouse,  hat  [great  high-crowned  felt 
hat]  and  cap,  two  pairs  of  flannel  shirts,  drawers,  and 
stockings,  one  pair  of  shoes,  one  pair  of  trowsers,  and  a 
rubber  blanket.  It  is  an  amusing  and  perplexing  busir 
ness,  that  of  fitting  the  boys.  We  give  to  each  captain 
so  many  of  each  article  of  clothing,  and  he  distributes 
them  according  to  the  men's  sizes  and  the  marks  on  the 
clothes.  It  not  unfrequently  happens  that  "  ones"  are 
marked  "  four,"  and  fours  "  one."  To  exchange  with  the 
quartermaster  is  their  fancied  relief.  Sometimes  a  little 
fellow  will  come  with  dress-coat  too  large  for  an  over 
coat  for  him,  and  with  pantaloons  so  long  one  way  as  to 
render  a  vest  unnecessary,  and  the  other  way  presenting 
a  double  thickness  almost  to  his  knees.  Again,  some 
giant  clothed  in  Lilliputian  raiment,  will  make  his  ap 
pearance,  the  sleeves  of  his  coat  near  his  elbows,  while 
his  pantaloons  look  as  if  the  defunct  short-clothes  of  our 
fathers  had  had  a  resurrection.  Motion  with  him  is 
scarce  possible,  while  the  manual  of  arms  or  the  "  double- 
quick"  would  be  sure  to  result  in  an  extravagant  expendi 
ture  of  Uncle  Sam's  toggery.  The  dwarf  and  the  giant 
exchange  clothes  to  their  mutual  comfort  and  improve 
ment. 

Instead  of  light-blue  pants,  we  are  furnished  with  dark- 
blues  ;  so  with  our  black  overcoats,  and  big  black  hats, 


56  LIFE   WITH    THE   FORTY-NINTH 

we  look  on  "  Dress-parade''  as  prepared  for  the  solemni 
ties  of  an  execution  or  a  funeral.  Chromwefl'g  Ironsides 
did  not  present  a  more  demure  appearance.  If  some  one 
had  but  started  a  hymn  of  Dr.  Watts  in  the  true  Yankee 
intxiil  tone,  the  illusion  would  have  been  complete.  We  are 
charged  for  dress-coats  six  dollars  and  seventy-one  cents  ; 
for  flannel  shirts,  eighty-eight  cents ;  for  drawers,  fifty 
cents ;  for  pants,  three  dollars  and  three  cents.  As  the 
materials  are  good,  and  contractors  will  make  money, 
God  pity  the  poor  who  have  made  them.  Truly,  "  it  is 
not  linen  we're  wearing  out,  it  is  huma?)  creatures'  lives." 
How  much  we  need  to  get  slavery  out  of  the  way,  that 
we  may  grapple  with  the  great  questions  of  Social  Re 
form.  Its  aggressions  and  the  nation's  consequent  dan 
ger  have  absorbed  all  our  thoughts  and  energies.  Evil 
itself,  it  prevents  us  attacking  other  and  greater  evils. 
To  remove  it,  the  land  may  well  "  sweat  blood,  and  vom 
it  llame." 

The  citizens  of  North  Adams  have  presented  Captain 
Parker  with  sword,  sash,  belt,  and  pistol ;  and  the  people 
of  Williamstown  have  done  a  similar  favor  to  Lieutenant 
Ilarvie,  lacking  only  the  pistol,  which  lack  was  supplied 
by  the  members  of  his  company  (G),  through  Sergeant 
Nordaby.  Lieutenant  Lyon's  real  merit  has  not  been 
•  preciate.d.  His  former  associates  in  Phillip's  Woolen 
Mill,  South  Adams,  and  other  friends,  have  bestowed  on 
him  a  handsome  sword,  sash,  belt,  pistol,  shoulder-straps, 
and  steel  vest.  Thus,  you  see  they  have  had  an  eye  not 
only  to  his  adornment  and  effectiveness,  but  to  his  safe 
return. 


Co.  I. 


Oapl.  Z.  C.  RESXIE. 
Lieut.  L.  S.  KELLoao.  Liout.  "\V.  A.  NICHOLS. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  57 


LETTER    IX. 

CAMP  BRIGGS,  MASS.,  October  30,  1862. 
MY  DEAK  L. : 

On  Tuesday,  the  28th  instant,  companies  H,  I,  and  K, 
were  duly  mustered  into  the  United  States  service.  I 
had  not  a  single  man  rejected.  A  final  caucus  was  held 
on  Monday  evening  for  the  nomination  of  field  officers. 
Though  it  was  an  informal  election,  it  is  understood  to 
be  binding,  and  that  the  formal  election  will  but  ratify  the 
informal.  This  is  proper ;  for  not  knowing  how  soon 
we  may  leave,  the  newly  chosen  field  officers  should  have 
an  opportunity  to  equip  themselves  as  the  law  directs. 
Captain  Bartlett,  and  it  is  now  declared  he  will  accept, 
was  chosen  colonel ;  Captain  Sumner,  lieutenant-colonel; 
and  Captain  Morey,  major.  I  am  glad  that  Captain 
Plunkett  does  not  leave  Co.  C.  That  company  can  illy 
spare  him.  He  devotes  himself  to  study,  and  is  making 
rapid  progress.  Take  him  away,  and  much  of  the  incen 
tive  to  study  would  bo  lost,  for  the  positions  of  lieutenant- 
colonel  and  major  are  mere  sinecures  when  the  colonel  is 
present.  Remove  him  from  Co.  C,  and  another  election 
would  be  necessary.  Be  assured,  that  election,  result  as 
it  may,  will  only  weaken  and  demoralize  the  company. 
Captain  Plunkett's  own  merit,  his  social  position,  his 
family  standing,  all  tend  to  make  a  united  company  of 
that  which,  remove  him,  will  be  the  least  united  of  any  in 
the  regiment.  Major  Morey  owes  his  success  to  his  cred 
itable  manner  of  handling  the  regiment  at  a  recent  bat 
talion  drill.  He  is  a  fine  officer,  and  has  done  much  for 
Co.  F.  We,  in  the  quartermaster's  department,  know 
that  no  other  officer  watches  so  closely  over  the  interests 
of  his  men.  No  other  has  had  his  experience.  Firm 
3* 


58  LIFE   WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

seemingly  stern,  but  kind,  he  will  make  an  excellent 
major.  I  believe,  that  when  the  men  come  to  know  him, 
he  will  have  an  inthience  over  them,  second  only  to  Colo 
nel  Bartlett.  Lieutenant-Colonel  Sumner  has  never  been 
deemed  devoid  of  ambition  ;  so,  his  refusal  of  the  Colonel 
cy  shows  that  ambition  in  him  coexists  with  patriot 
ism,  modesty,  and  good  sense,  otherwise  he  would  sacri 
fice  the  welfare  of  the  regiment  to  his  own  interest.  Say 
what  you  will,  a  lieutenant-colonel  is  doomed  to  an  in 
ferior  part,  unless  the  colonel  is  absent  or  removed ; 
then  he  is  virtually  commander.  For  my  part,  I  would 
prefer  to  be  at  the  head  of  a  company.  Rank  is  rank,  I 
know,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  an  ambitious  man  would 
rather  fill  a  subordinate  position  with  which  there  is  an 
exercise  of  junrcr,  than  to  have  merely  a  higher  rank, 
with  almost  no  power.  Of  course,  these  remarks  apply 
equally  to  the  position  of  major. 

Not  only  are  the  men  drilled  daily,  and  are  improv 
ing  rapidly,  but  the  officers  also  show  the  benefits  of 
their  daily  drilling  by  Captain  Bartlett.  It  is  a  treat  to 
see  that  man  go  through  the  manual  of  arms.  He  puts 
such  a  finish,  sucii  a  vim  to  every  motion.  For  two 
hours  at  a  time,  he  will  stand  on  that  remaining  leg,  till 
half  of  us  believe  he  never  had  any  need  of  the  one  buried 
at  Yorktown,  but  it  was  only  a  superfluous  member  or 
mere  ornament.  Sometimes  we  try  to  see  how  long  ice 
can  stand  on  one  leg ;  a  few  short  minutes,  and  we  re 
quire  the  use  of  both,  or  find  ourselves  reeling  aboutMike 
decapitated  hens.  If  the  colonel  (I  will  call  him  such) 
needs  rest,  he  takes  it  as  a  part  of  the  exercise,  so  we  can 
not  tell  which  is  manual  of  arms  and  which  rest.  The 
cords  of  that  right  leg  must  stand  out  like  great  whip  lashes. 
There  is  ??///  about  all  this.  It  is  this  quiet,  intense  de 
termination,  this  fixedness  of  will,  that  makes  us  desire 
Colonel  Bartlett,  with  but  one  leg,  for  our  commander, 
over  any  other  man  with  the  full  complement  of  limbs. 
Somehow  or  other,  we  cannot  tell  v/hy,  we  in-Hove  that 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  59 

he  will  not  be  the  mere  buffet  of  circumstances,  but 
will  ride  over,  and  lead  us  over  all  difficulties.  Every 
man  salutes  him,  and  he  always  salutes  in  return.  In 
saluting,  the  back  of  the  right  hand  is  brought  up  to  the 
visor  of  the  cap,  then  the  arm  is  fully  extended,  and 
brought  down  to  the  side.  You  can  see  it  is  no  easy 
thing  to  be  done  walking  on  two  crutches,  but  the  Colo 
nel  does  it,  not  halting  to  do  it,  but,  while  walking  on 
and  in  the  most  approved  military  manner.  This  may 
seem  to  you  a  small  matter,  but  to  us  it  indicates  the  born 
soldier,  the  man  who  will  do  the  duties  he  has  assumed. 
The  other  day,  while  riding  in  his  carriage,  he  put  the 
regiment  through  battalion  drill.  What  a  noble  voice 
he  has,  a  deep  bass,  yet  as  clear  and  distinct  as  any  tenor. 
It  is  full  of  command.  He  don't  have  to  put  in  any  ex 
pletives  to  insure  attention  and  prompt  obedience.  They 
are  all  in  the  mere  voice.  Over,  or  rather  under  all  noise, 
with  apparently  no  effort,  that  voice  carries  his  orders  to 
the  remotest  soldier.  Take  him  all  and  in  all,  I  have  yet 
to  meet  one  who  so  fully  embodies  my  conceptions  of  a 
commander  as  Colonel  Bartlett.  I  kno\v  but  little  of  him 
as  a  man,  yet  one  thing  laid  the  foundation  of  trust  and  re 
spect.  It  is  necessary  for  the  commandant  of  the  post  to 
examine  and  sign  many  of  our  returns.  The  formula  is : 
"  I  certify,  on  honor,  that  I  have  carefully  examined  the 
above  return,  and  find  it  to  be  correct."  I  expected  that 
the  signing  of  it  would  be  a  rapid  and  formal  matter,  but 
not  so  ;  Colonel  Bartlett  pledges  his  honor  to  the  accu 
racy  of  the  paper,  and  so,  he  does  "  carefully  examine  it." 
Last  Tuesday,  Co.  D,  and  some  of  Co.  E,  visited  Bar- 
rington.  A  sumptuous  dinner  awaited  them,  after  which 
swords,  sashes,  belts,  were  presented  to  the  officers  of 
Co.  D,  by  the  citizens,  through  Rev.  H.  Winslow.  Each 
of  the  favored,  responded  in  a  suitable  speech,  making 
the  day  one  often  to  be  pleasantly  remembered  amid  stern 
er  scenes.  I  believe  Mr.  Parley  A.  Russell  was  the  main 
mover  in  getting  up  the  presented  articles.  John  H. 


60  LIFE    WITH    TIM-:    i  NTII 

Coifing,  Esq.,  placed  one  hundred  dollars  in  the  hands  of 
Lieutenant  Tuck-  und  lor  ;  -ick 

of  Co.  D.    Such  tender  exhibitions  oi  patriotism  streu- 
en  soldiers  in  thei  Nation  to  do  their  duty.    Many 

yet  thank  the  considerate  heart  of  Mr. 
Coffing.     The    citizens  of  West  Stoekbridge  havi-   pre- 

,'d  Lieutenant  Kniilin  with  an  outiit.  He  merits  it, 
being  uf  the  most  worthy  and  popular  of  all  our  offn 
Lieutenant  Noble,  of  Co.  B,  received  sword,  sash  and 
belt  from  the  members  of  that  company  :  a  delicate  ap 
preciation  oi'  i  is  merit  and  services.  Co.  K  has  also  been 
the  recipients  of  similar  favors.  II.  C.  and  M.  Ilulbert, 
of  New  York,  presented  them  with  a  silken  flag,  while 
their  captain  received  a  brace  of  revolvers,  one  from  his 
friends  in  Lee,  the  other  from  Major  F.  Weston,  of  Dai- 
ton.  The  exercises  look  place  at  camp,  speeches  being 
made  by  Messrs.  Branning  and  G.  II.  Phelps,  of  Lee,  fol 
lowed  by  the  enthusiastic  !•'  ihe  company.  Some 
unknown  one  of  Pittsiield  sent  them  a  drum,  while  the 
members  of  the  company  presented  Captain  Weston  with 
sword  and  trimmings.  Lieutenants  Judd  and  Taft,  each 
received  a  sword,  sash  and  belt,  from  their  friends. 

Our   days    |>:  '.ntly    on,  but   with   nothing   of 

marked  interest.  Fully  clothed,  the  regiment  has  several 
times  marched  into  town,  creating  quite  a  sensation. 
N'<»\v,  that  they  are  uniformed,  their  remarkable  j 
attracts  mu«-h  attention.  They  arc  certainly  a  noble-look 
ing  body  of  men.  War  is  based  on  the  physical,  and 
while  uniform  hides  individuality,  it  brings  the  physical 
into  bold  relief.  I  doubt  if  Ma^.  a  ever  before 

gathered  so  fine  a  looking  regiment. 

Qu  last  Sunday  afternoon,  Dr.  Todd  presented  us  with 
neat  pocket  editions  of  the  Xew  Testament,  in  behalf  of 
the  Berkshire  County  Bible  Society.  His  remarks  were 
pertinent,  characterized  by  that  practic-  -.1  good  si 

aing  so  large  and  valuable  a  part  of  his  mental  nature. 
The  Testaments  were  gratefully  received,  and  will,  I  be- 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLTJNTEEES.  61 

lieve,  be  generally  preserved  and  read.  Destitute  of 
reading  matter,  having  much  unemployed  time  on  our 
Lands,  very  ennui  will  lead  us  to  peruse  them.  It  will  be 
handling  a  sharp,  two-edged  sword,  that  may  unwittingly 
wound  us  to  our  eternal  cure.  I  got  some  tracts,  papers, 
magazines,  whicli  I  distributed  among  the  boys.  They 
were  eagerly  seized,  tracts  included.  A  reading  regi 
ment,  how  much  mental  stagnation  is  before  us,  if  we  can 
judge  the  future  by  the  few  past  weeks.  Much  is  being 
done  to  relieve  this  stagnation,  much  more  will  be  done, 
but  after  all,  it  will  be  impossible  to  keep  our  army  fully 
supplied.  That  would  require  a  large  library,  the  trans 
portation  of  which  would  very  often  be  impossible. 

We  are  allowed  to  go  in  squads,  under  the  charge  of 
officers  or  sergeants,  to  churches,  lectures,  concerts.  A 
large  number  of  us  took  the  opportunity  to  hear  Charles 
Simmer  speak,  and  the  Hutchinsons  sing.  Did  you 
ever  hear  them  sing  the  J  olm  Brown  song  ?  As  they  sing 
it,  it  is  wondrously  inspiriting.  While  listening  to  them, 
I  almost  loathed  General  McClellan.  When  they  went 
to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  singing  to  the  soldiers  with 
out  charge,  he  ejected  them  from  his  lines.  Why  ? 
simply  because  they  sang  the  songs  of  freedom.  Noth 
ing  that  he  ever  did  made  me  believe  that  his  heart  was 
rotten  with  love  for  the  South,  so  much  as  that.  Depri 
ving  his  soldiers,  wearied  with  the  inactivity  of  camp- 
life,  of  such  a  treat — why  ?  God  only  knows.  Is  freedom 
to  him  a  hated  word  ?  Was  he  fearful  that  the  glad  cheers 
of  his  men  would  tell  the  foe  that  the  old  key-note  had 
been  struck  ?  That  they  were  rising,  in  defiance  of  Gen 
eral  McClellan,  to  a  true  appreciation  of  the  issues  in 
volved  ?  That  they  were  receiving  an  inspiration  which 
would  lead  them  to  downright  victory,  a  victory  that 
would  leave  of  slavery  nothing  but  its  scars,  and  shame, 
and  putrid  corpse. 


02  LIKE    WITH   THE   FOETY-^IM'II 


LETTER    X. 

CAMP  BRIGGS,  MASS.,  November  6,  1862. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

We  have  received  orders  to  report  at  Worcester.  Full 
time  to  leave  these  tents,  through  which  the  winds  sweep 
bleak  and  cold.  We  expected  to  get  oft*  to-day,  but  did 
not,  of  course.  How  we  will  get  through  the  night,  I 
know  not,  for  most  of  our  bedding  has  been  forwarded 
with  our  stores,  to  Worcester.  The  officers  are  in  the 
same  fix. 

On  the  thirteenth,  Governor  Andrew  reviewed  our  regi 
ment.  He  is  a  short,  pursy  man,  and  looks  as  if  he  en 
joyed  being  governor.  His  eye,  light  gray  or  blue,  is 
iv. illy  an  eye  eloquent,  capable  of  expressing  tenderness, 
scorn,  anger,  all  the  emotions.  Though  corpulent,  he 
shows  that  he  has  an  intense  soul.  Massachusetts  was 
fortunate  in  having  her  gubernatorial  chair  filled  by  such 
a  man  as  John  A.  Andrew.  lie  was  equal  to  the  crisis. 
lie  walked  in  front  and  rear  of  the  regiment,  closely  scan 
ning  the  men  and  their  apparel,  and  then  briefly  ad 
dressed  the  officers.  All  I  heard  wag,  "  Gentlemen,  by 
a  good  fortune  and  the  votes  of  your  men,  you  are  now 
officers.  Be  firm,  but  kind.  Remember  that  each  one  of 
those  soldiers  is  a  man  and  a  Massachusetts  citizen."  God 
bless  him,  the  large-minded,  warm-hearted,  patriot  ruler, 
ami  the  soldier's  untiring  friend. 

Captain  Rennic  was  presented  with  a  sword,  sash  and 
belt,  by  the  family  of  the  Hon.  Z.  M.  Crane  (whose  name 
he  bears),  of  Dalton.  Hon.  James  B.  Crane  made  the 
presentation  speech,  and  added  his  own  token  of  respect, 
in  the  shape  of  a  handsome  Smith  and  Wesson's  revolver. 
H.  B.  Brewster,  of  whose  appointment  as  quartermaster. 


Co.     TV. 


Lieut.  J.  E.  JUDD.       Capt.  BYRON  WESTON.         Lieut.  R.  f!.  TAKT. 
Lieut.  S.  B.  G LEA  SON. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  63 

there  is  now  no  doubt,  received  sword  and  equipments 
from  the  Housatonic  engine  company,  of  which  he  has 
been  an  active  member.  At  the  .mess-table  to-day,  Lieu 
tenant  Tucker  presented  Lieutenant  Deming,  Co.  II,  a 
handsome  sword,  sash  and  belt,  in  behalf  of  his  confiding 
friends  of  Sandisfield. 

'On  Saturday  evening,  John  Mason,  Company  I,  stabbed 
Henry  Harmon,  a  respectable  farmer  of  Coltsville,  caus 
ing  his  death.  It  was  an  unprovoked  assault.  It  seems 
he  is  a  deserter  from  an  Albany  regiment.  So  much  for 
the.  bounty  system.  In  large  cities,  where  n)wdies  are 
so  numerous,  this  system  sweeps  them  into  the  ranks. 
Bounty  and  then  desertion  is  their  creed.  Death  to  every 
such  deserter  should  be  the  unvarying  sentence.  Talk 
about  the  tyranny  of  the  government — it  has  not  reached 
wholesome  severity  yet.  The  death-penalty  is  the  only 
proper  punishment  and  remedy  for  desertion.  It  should 
be  applied  to  all  captured  deserters,  whether  they  desert 
here,  immediately  after  receiving  the  bounty,  or  when 
before  the  enemy.  A  small  appropriation  of  powder  and 
•ball,  would  check  the  growing  disease. 

Well,  we  are  about  to  leave  Camp  Briggs,  which  some 
gentlemen  have  purchased  for  a  pleasure  park.  While 
life  is  spared  us,  Camp  Briggs  will  be  a  pleasant  remem 
brance.  In  the  sultry  South,  perchance  in  crowded  fever 
wards,  we  will  think  of  its  surrounding  mountains,  its  bra 
cing  air,  and  deliriously  seek  its  pure,  abundant  water.  We 
leave  it  to  practise  the  lessons,  there  learned,  against  re 
bellion  ;  to  use  our  acquired  powers  for  the  destruction  of 
our  rebelling  brothers.  As  the  time  of  our  departure  is  at 
hand,  the  camp  is  crowded  with  visitors.  Partings  are 
spoken  that  may  be  forever.  Eyes  meet  eyes  that  will 
meet  no  more  till  "  every  eye  shall  see  Him"  the  pierced 
one,  battles  all  over,  and  enduring  crowns  given  to  life's 
victors.  How  many  of  us,  soldiers  of  the  Forty-Ninth, 
will  then  find  that  we  have  truly  "  fought  a  good  fight  ?" 


64  TJFE    WITH    TITE    FORTV-XTXTTI 


LETTER  XI. 

CAMP  WOOL,  WORCESTER,  MASS.,  November  14,  1862. 

Mr  DKAR  L. : 

Here  we  arc  at  our  new  home.  My  last  letter  left  you 
at  Camp  Briggs,  with  the  regiment  under  marching  or 
ders.  Well,  tliey  almost  mutinied  that  night,  and  no 
<kv.  Blankets  gone,  wood  gone,  coffee  gone,  nearly 
,  com!<»rt  -one,  they  were  not  in  an  enviable  plight. 
Fences  suffered,  an  old  soap-house  came  down,  all  for 
«fucl.  Mr.  Brewster  bought  them  some  caudles  and  cof- 
Imt  most  of  the  rang—;  and  cooking  utensils,  were  on 
their  way  to  Worcester.  The  cold  night  was  followed 
by  a  chilly  morning.  They  got  off'  from  Pittsfield  about 
0  A.  M.,  and  reached  Worcester  Junction  about  4£  p.  M. 
They  were  saluted  at  Dal  ton  and  Becket,  and  at  Spring 
field  found  coffee  for  some  and  cannon  for  all.  From- 
Worcester  Junction  to  the  camp,  a  mile,  the  boys  walked 
through  a  snow  storm  that  would  have  done  credit  to 
January.  A  colder,  fiercer  storm,  I  never  experienced. 
We  began  to  think  leaving  Berkshire  meant  an  intro- 
ducl.i<.n  to  hardships.  Hot  coffee,  the  soldier's  panacea, 
bre..;!,  beef,  and  good  barracks,  renewed  our  comfort  and 
cheerfulness.  Alas!  for  the  poor  guards,  who  had  to 
brave  that  night  with  no  protection  but  those  flimsy, 
shoddy  overcoats. 

The  morning  came,  bringing  a  bracing  air  and  a  clear 
sky,  and  we  were  all  out  early  surveying  the  premises. 
Albeit  we  missed  the  cheerful  appearance  of  white  tents, 
and  the  unpainted  barracks  looked  gloomy  and  forbid 
ding,  our  survey  impressed  us  that  the  .removal  was  for 
our  good. 

As  you  see  by  the  heading  of  this  letter,  our  home  is 


Lieut.-Col.  S.  B.  SUMNEB. 
Major  C.  T.  PLUXKETT. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  65 

named  "  Camp  Wool."  Colonel  G.  H.  Ward,  is  com 
mandant  of  the  post,  now  consist-ing  of  the  Forty-ninth 
and  Fifty-first  Massachusetts  Volunteers.  Like  our  own 
colonel,  he  has  given  a  piece  of  one  leg  to  the  service,  but 
Palmer  has  supplied  him  with  so  good  a  substitute  that 
you  might  think  him  slightly  troubled  with  the  rheumatism, 
but  would  hardly  suppose  he  was  the  possessor  of  a  cork 
leg.  The  Fifty-first  occupies  for  barracks,  an  old  pistol 
factory,  while,  more  fortunate,  we  take  possession  of  bar 
racks  that  are  barracks,  a  separate  one  for  each  company. 
Here,  the  men  can  stand  erect,  and  walk  about  under  a 
roof,  or  sit  by  a  cosy  fire.  The  berths  are  admirably  ar 
ranged,  each  accommodating  two  persons,  and  are  two  or 
three  feet  from  the  floor,  obviating  the  necessity  of  ma 
king  our  bed-clothes  by  night,  shoe-rugs  by  day.  The 
barracks  are  new ;  some  of  them  have  never  been  occu 
pied.  Two  frame  buildings  serve  for  the  line  officers' 
quarters,  while  in  rear  of  them  are  head-quarf  ers,  the  pres 
ent  home  of  the  field  and  staff.  Back  of  the  barracks 
we  have  a  fine  parade  ground. 

On  Monday,  the  tenth  instant,  there  was  a  formal  elec 
tion  of  field  officers.  For  colonel,  Captain  Bartlett  re 
ceived  all  the  votes  cast :  for  lieutenant-colonel,  Captain 
Simmer  received  twenty-seven  votes,  and  Captain  Plun- 
kett,  three ;  for  major,  Captain  Plunkett  got  thirteen, 
and  Captain  Morey,  twelve  votes.  So  Co.  C  loses  its 
captain,  and  Captain  Morey  loses  the  majorship.  A  feel 
ing  prevailed  in  the  regiment,  that  he  was  too  severe  a 
disciplinarian,  and  hence  his  defeat.  There  was  no  wire 
pulling,  no  chicanery  on  the  part  of  Major  Plunkett.  All 
was  manly  and  above  board.  H.  B.  Brewster  is  quarter 
master,  with  the  rank  of  first  lieutenant.  B.  C.  Mifflin, 
of  Boston,  is  adjutant.  He  also  ranks  ns  first  lieutenant. 
He  is  a  personal  friend  and  college  associate  of  Colonel 
Bartlett.  He  is  quite  young,  only  twenty-two  years  of 
age,  and  fresh  from  Harvard.  Though  a  member  of  the 
Boston  Rifles,  he  has  not  had  much  military  experience. 


66  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

The  colonel  told  the  officers  before  election,  that,  if  elect- 
c  1.  he  would  select  his  adjutant  from  out  of  Berkshire. 
Lieutenant  Noble  goes  back  to  Co.  B.  He  made  a  capi 
tal  adjutant.  His  successor  will  need  to  be  wide  a  wake 
if  he  prove  himself  his  superior.  Dr.  F.  Winsor,  from 
Raiiisford  Island  Hospital,  is  our  surgeon.  He  is  a  quiet, 
reserved  man,  very  much  of  a  gentleman,  and  highly  spo 
ken  of.  His  rank  and  pay  are  that  of  a  major.  The  as 
sistant  surgeon  is  Dr.  A.  R.  Rice,  of  Springfield.  He 
went  out  with  the  First  Massachusetts  in  the  same  ca 
pacity.  He  is  young,  but  twenty-two  years  of  age,  and 
young  in  his  ways,  but  is  regarded,  as  I  believe  truly, 
judging  phrenologically,  as  a  very  superior  disciple  of 
Esculapius.  With  rare  modesty,  he  refused  the  position 
of  chief  surgeon.  He  ranks  as  first  lieutenant.  The  sur 
geons  are  appointed  by  the  governor  on  recommendation 
of  the  surgeon-general. 

The  non-commissioned  staff  are,  and  rank  as  follows  : 
Hospital  steward,  A.  J.  Morey,  of  Co.  F,  (son  of  Captain 
Morey) ;  sergeant  major,  H.  J.  Wylie,  of  Co.  A ;  quarter 
master  sergeant,  G.  E.  Howard,  of  Co.  A,  commissary 
sergeant,  II.  H.  Northup,  of  Co.  C ;  drum  major,  E.  N. 
Merry,  of  the  same  company ;  while  A.  M.  Brainerd,  of 
Co.  D,  and  myself,  respectively  fill  the  post  of  adjutant, 
and  quartermaster's  clerk. 

We  brought  from  Camp  Brings,  nine  hundred  and  six 
ty-two  men.  Our  average  height  is  five  feet  eight  in 
ches  ;  our  average  age  twenty-five  years,  four  months  and 
eighteen  days.  The  men  enlisted  are  credited  to  the  fol 
lowing  towns : 

Pittsfield 1-10  West  Stockbridge 22 

Barrington 82  Savoy. 18 

Sheffield 75  Windsor 17 

Adams 74  Tyrintrham   16 

Lee 55  Washington  15 

New  Marlboro 41  Dalton 14 

Sandisfield  . ,  40  Florida    12 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  67 

Lenox 87     Richmond 12 

Stockbridge 34    Hancock 10 

Cheshire   32    Clarksburgh 9 

Lanesboro 31    Mount  Washington 9 

Egremont 29    Alford 8 

Williamstown 27    Peru 6 

Hinsdale 25    New  Ashford 4 

Becket 24    Chicopee 2 

Otis 23    "Worcester 1 

Monterey 23 

The  average  bounty  paid  by  the  towns  is  one  hundred 
dollars.  In  our  ranks  we  have  four  hundred  and  seventy- 
three  farmers. 


68  LIFE   WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 


LETTER  XII. 

CAMP  WOOL,  WORCESTER,  MASS.  (Tfianksgiving  Day,)  ) 
November  28,  1862.  J 

MY  DEAR  L. : 

It  seems  decided  now  that  we  join  Banks's  expedition, 
wherefor,  we  know  not.  That  is  one  war-secret  that  has 
been  kept.  We,  Massachusetts  men,  are  glad  to  go  with 
Massachusetts'  favorite,  willing  to  "go  it  blind"  with 
him  above  any  other  general.  People  smiled  when  the 
call  for  seventy-five  thousand  men  was  made  in  April 
1861,  because  Banks  declared  it  should  have  been  for 
half  a  million.  While  governor  of  this  state,  he  foresaw 
this  rebellion,  and  prepared  Massachusetts  to  meet  it  by 
reorganizing  its  militia  system.  So  far-seeing  a  man  will 
lead  us  safely  on  to  victory.  Last  Tuesday,  guns  and 
equipments  came.  They  are  Enfield  rifle-muskets,  fresh 
from  England,  having  never  been  inspected  since  their 
arrival.  Since  thus  armed,  the  men  enjoy  drilling  more, 
and  also  find  a  great  addition  to  their  labor,  for  it  is  no 
light  task  to  keep  a  gun  in  perfect  order.  Proudly  we' 
carry  them  now,  and  proudly  we  hope  ever  to  carry  them  ; 
but  often,  O  how  wearily. 

Our  shoddy  black  overcoats  have  given  place  to  sub 
stantial  light  blues,  in  which  the  ladies  of  Worcester  are 
putting  pockets,  thus  adding  to  our  comfort,  and  enliven 
ing  us  by  their  presence.  The  people  of  Worcester  do  all 
they  can  to  make  us  feel  at  home.  The  Messrs.  Goddard, 
with  the  pecuniary  help  of  some  of  our  field  officers,  fur 
nished  us  with  chickens,  turkeys,  and  other  appendages 
of  a  Thanksgiving  dinner,  to  many  of  us  a  well-timed 
kindness,  and  one  appreciated  even  by  those  whose 
thoughtful  friends  at  home  had  anticipated  their  wants. 


Asst.  Surgeon,  Surgeon,  Adjutant, 

A.  R.  RICE.  F.  WINSOR.  BENJ.  C.  MIFFLIX. 

H.  B.  BREVVSTER,  Quartermaster. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  69 

The  field  and  staff  were  duly  mustered  in  on  the  19th 
instant,  and-  there  is  some  talk  of  mustering  us  as  a 
regiment  to  serve  nine  months  from  the  date  of  their 
muster.  I  hope  not,  for  difficulty  will  surely  spring  from 
it.  Some  declare  they  will  not  leave  the  State  until  paid 
off. 

The  colonel  has  returned  from  Boston  with  a  fiery  little 
horse  and  a  wooden  leg,  on  which  (the  leg  I  mean)  he 
walks  rather  unsteadily.  His  appearance  before  the 
troops  on  horseback,  seemingly  a  whole  man,  drew  forth 
hearty  spontaneous  cheers,  not  ungrateful  to  any  man 
who  knows  that  the  confidence  of  his  men  is  a  sure  guar 
anty  of  success.  The  lieutenant-colonel  and  our  tall 
major,  on  appearing  in  their  handsome  uniforms,  were 
also  received  with  cheers.  We  have  now,  not  only  a 
"tall  major,"  the  major,  and  Major  Winsor,  the  surgeon, 
and  a  sergeant-major,  and  a  drum-major,  but  we  have 
also  a  "  little  major."  A  boy  about  seven  years  of  age, 
friendless  and  homeless,  came  into  camp,  and  has  been 
adopted  by  Co.  A  as  "the  child  of  the  regiment." 

In  consequence  of  the  promotion  of  Captain  Sunnier, 
another  election  was  held  on  the  17th  for  officers  of  Co. 
D.  Second  Lieutenant  Chaffee  received  forty-seven  votes, 
and  First  Lieutenant  Tucker,  thirty-two.  This  result  ma 
king  a  vacancy  in  the  post  of  second  lieutenant,  H.  C. 
Morey  was  elected  to  fill  that  vacancy,  he  receiving 
forty-seven  votes,  Sergeant  Siggins  twenty-eight,  and 
R.  More  six.  Lieutenant  Morey  is  active,  young,  and 
popular ;  but,  until  men  have  been  in  service,  they  will 
elect  the  most  popular  rather  than  the  most  efficient. 
C.  Hebner,  Esq.,  of  Lee,  has  given  Lieutenant  Smith,  Co. 
H,  one  hundred  dollars  in  trust  for  the  benefit  of  the  mem 
bers  of  that  company.  This  unostentatious  act  Is  its 
own  reward. 

Last  Sunday  night,  we  had  an  evidence  that  there  is  a 
mixture  of  fiendishness  in  our  regiment.  J.  D.  Snooks, 
of  Co.  G,  who  was  blessed,  or  cursed,  as  it  seemed,  with 


70  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

a  five  dollar  note,  visited  "  the  grove,"  and  while  there, 
hearing  approaching  footsteps,  turned  round  only  to  be 
knocked  down  with  a  heavy  stick,  which  was  followed 
by  a  stab,  penetrating  to  his  breast-bone,  evidently  inten 
ded  to  be  a  deathly  blow,  to  prevent  detection.  When  the 
poor  fellow,  maimed  and  bleeding,  returned  to  his  barrack, 
he  found  that  he  had  been  robbed  of  his  money  in  tho 
unconsciousness  following  the  assault.  The  same  note 
was  later  in  the  evening  offered  to  the  sutler  to  be  chang 
ed,  yet  we  have  not  been  able  to  discover  the  villain. 

We  have  an  addition  to  our  mess.  A.  N.  Cowles,  of 
Co.  E,  who  is  to  have  charge  of  Ordnance  and  Ordnance 
stores.  The  addition  is  an  improvement,  for  a  rare, 
quaint,  shrewd,  intelligent,  laughter-provoking  fellow  is 
he.  The  members  of  his  company  have  presented  their 
orderly,  M.  H.  Tuttle,  with  a  sword  and  sash,  thus  show 
ing  their  intelligent  appreciation  of  merit. 

This,  I  suppose,  is  our  last  day  in  Massachusetts  for  a 
season,  perchance  for  ever.  We  will  not  all  come  back. 
Some  will  never  leave.  Death  has  commenced  his  in 
roads.  Allen  H.  Wheeler,  of  Co.  B,  from  West  Stock- 
bridge,  died  at  home  of  fever,  on  the  15th  instant. 
Taken  sick  at  Camp  Briggs,  his  military  career  was 
short.  Cut  down  in  early  manhood,  being  only  twenty- 
three  years  of  age,  the  farmer  boy  has  closed  the  battle- 
life  and  gained,  I  hope,  the  victor's  crown.  I  knew  him 
not,  but  he  is  spoken  of  as  a  nice,  steady  man.  Yester 
day,  Wells  B.  Morgan,  also  of  Co.  B,  from  Richmond, 
died  of  fever.  His  wife  came  here  to  minister  to  him, 
and  he  was  privileged  to  die  at  home,  surrounded  by 
wife  and  children.  He  was  a  farmer,  thirty-five  years  of 
age,  and  being  a  good  soldier,  we  can  illy  spare  him ; 
but  the  Lord  of  Hosts  has  signed  his  discharge,  and  we 
must  submit.  On  the  same  day,  at  his  home  in  Lenox, 
died  John  Godson,  of  Co.  D.  Consumption  cut  him 
down  in  his  twenty-second  year,  leaving  a  young  widow 
to  mourn  him,  without  the  solace  of  that  glory  that  gath- 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  71 

ers  round  the  dead  who  fall  on  victorious  battle-fields. 
His  Irish  life  was  offered  for  his  adopted  land,  but  the 
greedy  monster,  Death,  too  impatient  to  wait  for  the 
hour  of  conflict,  laid  him  low  before  he  had  an  opportuni 
ty  to  prove  on  the  well-fought  field  his  right  to  the  proud 
appellation  of  American  citizen.  So,  in  the  graves,  they 
fraternize,  and  we  now  go  forth,  armed  and  equipped, 
not  knowing  what  awaiteth  us,  but  convinced,  alas !  too 
well,  that  the  recurring  thanksgiving  will  show  many  a 
desolate  home  in  Berkshire. 


72  LIFE    WITH   THE   FORTY-NINTH 


LETTER    XIII. 

FRANKLIN  STREET  BARRACKS,  NEW  YORK,  ) 
December  4,  ISGii.  [ 

MY  DEAK  L. : 

Here  we  are  in  the  Western  Babylon.  On  Friday, 
about  2  P.  M.,  we  left  Worcester  for  New  York,  via 
railroad  to  Norwich,  Conn.,  and  steamer  Commodore  to 
this  city,  which  we  reached  on  Saturday,  4  A.  M.,  having 
spent  the  night  on  the  boat.  All  along  the  road  from 
Worcester  to  Norwich,  the  people  greeted  us  enthusias 
tically,  making  us  feel  we  were  indeed  of  some  import 
ance  to  them.  We  marched  up  to  the  Park,  where  we  re 
lieved  ourselves  of  our  traps,  and  under  the  guidance  of 
Colonel  Frank  Howe,  proceeded  to  partake  of  a  comfort 
able  breakfast.  Now,  that  I  can  compare  our  boys  with 
those  of  other  regiments,  I  am  proud  of  them.  Physi 
cally,  so  Colonel  Howe  says,  we  have  never  been  surpass 
ed  by  any  regiment  he  had  seen,  and  never  equalled  save 
by  a  regiment  from  Maine.  Until  I  got  into  the  work 
of  comparison,  I  was  not  aware  that  there  were  so  very 
many  fine  faces  among  us.  In  all  our  thousand,  you  can 
see  few  evidences  of  dissipation,  and  none  of  real  rowdy 
ism.  Never,  never  can  we  be  grateful  enough  to  sol 
diers.  Here  are  men  loving  homes,  wives  and  children, 
going  forth  to  do  what  ?  If  need  be,  to  die  for  a  country's 
weal,  for  a  world's  hope.  They  go  to  meet  privation, 
sickness,  suffering,  mutilation,  death,  as  our  representa 
tives,  bearing  in  their  own  bodies  wounds  that  must 
otherwise  fall  on  us  and  our  nation's  life ;  making  their 
breasts  a  barrier  to  the  wave  of  fire  that  threatens  to 
sweep  over  the  whole  land,  a  wave  that  will  ingulf  many 
of  them,  winning  for  them  nameless  graves  and  places 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  73 

among  the  "  unnamed  demi-gods"  of  earth.  War !  battle ! 
how  grand  they  are !  How  they  ring  sonorously  through 
the  chambers  of  the  soul  mingling  with  the  symphony  of 
angels,  for  it  is  only  through  wars  men  are  made  angels ; 
and  though  guns  are  in  our  hands,  and  bayonets  at 
our  sides,  we  can  yet  say,  "  the  weapons  of  our  warfare 
are  not  carnal,  but  spiritual,  mighty  through  God  to  the 
pulling  down  of  the  strongholds  of  iniquity."  No  longer 
does  brute  force  fight ;  this  is  a  war  of  ideas,  in  which 
carnal  weapons  only  impress  or  obliterate  great  moral 
truths,  the  noble  battling  for  which  makes  men  heroes, 
and  sinners  angels. 

Our  colonel,  on  his  new  black  horse,  with  crutch  at  his 
back,  is,  of  course,  an  object  of  great  interest.  I  send 
you  an  article  written  by  one  who  has  ever  manifested  an 
affectionate  concern  for  our  regiment. 

CORRESPONDENCE  OF  THE  SUN. 

"  NEW  YORK,  November  29,  1862. 
"  To  the  Editor  of  the  Pittsfield  Sun  : 

"  At  an  early  hour  this  morning,  I  heard  that  the  last  of 
our  Berkshire  regiments,  the  Forty-ninth,  had  just  arriv 
ed  from  Worcester,  and  were  waiting  in  the  City  Hall 
Park  till  their  quarters  should  be  assigned  to  them. 
Hurrying  thither,  I  soon  found  the  familiar  faces  which 
I  had  so  often  greeted  at  Camp  Briggs,  and  in  all  of 
whom  I  had  learned  to  feel  a  personal  interest.  Our  at 
tention  was  first  arrested  by  a  crowd  of  persons  gathered 
round  a  carriage,  which,  on  approaching  it  more  nearly, 
we  found  to  contain,  as  its  centre  of  attraction,  the  youth 
ful  form  and  face  of  Col.  Bartlett.  Anon  a  deep-toned 
voice  rang  out  clear  and  sonorous  above  the  din  of  Broad 
way,  giving  the  word  of  command  for  the  regiment  to 
march,  and  almost  like  magic  the  line  was  formed,  and 
the  measured  tread  of  nearly  a  thousand  men  kept  time 
as  they  proceeded  to  their  temporary  quarters  at  the 
4 


74  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

Franklin  Street  Barracks.  We  kept  our  station  till  the 
last  of  the  blue  coats  had  inarched  by  us,  and  an  ambu 
lance  with  a  few  sick  men  had  gone  to  the  Hospital  near 
by,  where  woman's  hand  and  woman's  tact  would  care 
tenderly  for  them,  while  such  care  should  be  needed.  As 
we  passed  out  of  the  Park  after  the  regiment,  we  heard 
many  a  word  of  compliment  given,  with  great  apparent 
sincerity  and  warmth,  for  the  healthy  and  cheerful  look 
ing  men,  for  the  officers  generally,  and  for  the  '  tall  Ma 
jor*  in  particular.  One  only  of  the  regiment  deserved  no 
compliment,  and  would  have  heeded  little,  if  he  had  re 
ceived  one.  Stretched  in  a  somewhat  dilapidated  hired 
carriage,  and  its  only  occupant,  but  so  spread  out  as  to 
take  uj)  all  its  room,  was  the  one  drunken  man  amongst 
the  soldiers. 

"  We  followed  the  troops  up  Broadway,  till  they  halted 
at  the  corner  of  Franklin  Street,  and  a  portion  of  them 
turned  down  it  and  began  to  enter  the  building  prepared 
for  their  reception — a  large  warehouse  capable  of  accom 
modating  fifteen  hundred  to  two  thousand  men.  Draw 
ing  up  in  our  carriage  at  the  curb,  till  they  had  all  safely 
passed,  I  could  not  but  feel  proud  of  the  bearing  of  the 
men ;  though  the  rain  was  now  falling  heavily,  and  had 
done  so  for  an  hour  or  more,  there  were  no  sullen  or  dis 
contented  faces  amongst  them,  but  jokes  and  laughter 
passed  -from  one  to  another  on  every  side.  Brave  I 
know  these  men  to  be — I  know  it  after  having  watched 
and  read  their  faces,  and  seen  the  determination  and  sin 
cerity  written  there ;  and  while  these  elements  remain, 
who  shall  dare  to  doubt  the  final  issue  of  this  conflict,  in 
spite  of  blunders  and  mismanagement  in  high  places  ? 

"  It  is  not  yet  known  how  long  the  regiment  will  remain 
in  New  York,  but  their  departure  will  not  probably  be 
delayed  beyond  next  week,  and  then  farewell  to  the  last 
of  our  Berkshire  regiments  till  we  hear  of  them  again 
amid  the  din  of  battle — and  where  and  when  will  that  be  ? 

"  So  pass  ye  on,  brave  and  gallant  Forty-ninth,  strong 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  75 

reapers  for  the  harvest-field  of  war.  So  pass  ye  to  your 
work.  And  oh !  may  God  speed  the  return  to  your  tri 
umphant  harvest  home ;  but  ere  that  time  shall  come, 
how  many  of  your  number,  now  gone  forth  in  the  flush 
of  youth  and  strength,  shall  themselves  be  gathered  into 
the  already  overflowing  granaries  of  Death  ?  Who  shall 
tell  ?  In  the  mystery  of  the  future  let  it  rest.  In  faith  ye 
have  gone  forth — in  faith  we  wait  your  return. 

"  S.  A.  M." 

Our  "  tall  major"  attracts  much  attention.  Some  of  the 
papers  grow  merry  over  his  size,  and  ludicrously  detail 
his  proportions,  while  the  Express,  true  to  its  nature, 
makes  game  of  our  colonel's  loss.  More  patriotism  lies 
in  that  grave  near  Yorktown  where  rests  that  shat 
tered  leg,  than  ever  was  felt  by  the  whole  editorial  corps 
of  the  Express.  The  crutch  of  our  colonel  is  mightier 
than  the  eloquence  of  a  whole  regiment  of  Brookses. 
Lieutenant  Tucker,  of  Co.  D,  leaves  us  to  take  a  position 
on  General  Andrew's  staff. 

Our  barracks  are  roomy  and  gloomy,  and  our  food 
scarce  equal  to  our  desires,  but  we  are  tolerably  well  con 
tented,  expecting  to  stay  here  but  a  few  days  ere  leaving 
for  Dixie.  In  squads,  under  the  charge  of  officers,  we 
wander  round  the  city,  attend  churches,  and  visit  places 
of  amusements.  A  great  treat  this  to  many  who  were 
never  before  in  this  heart  of  the  western  world,  a  treat 
rather  provoking,  considering  that  the  non-arrival  of  the 
paymaster  puts  it  out  of  the  power  of  many  to  treat 
themselves.  It  seems  almost  like  starving  before  a  full 
table,  to  see  the  appetizing  delicacies  of  ISTew  York,  and  yet 
be  compelled  to  dine  in  that  dark  cellar  on  army  rations. 
Bad  for  us,  we  may  think,  but  good  for  our  families,  we 
all  say.  Empty  pockets  enable  us  to  be  proof  against 
all  the  snares  of  Sodom.  Having  often  said  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  we  no\v  find  it  answered  in  that,  He  "gives  us 
our  daily  bread ;  leads  us  not  in  temptation,  and  delivers 
us  from  evil." 


76  LIFE   WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

The  other  afternoon,  rich  in  all  their  arms  and  in  full 
dress,  our  regiment  marched  up  Broadway.  "Eyes 
front,"  requiring  each  man  to  look  neither  to  the  right  nor 
to  the  left,  we  recognized  then  as  a  tl  custom  more  honor 
ed  in  the  breach  than  in  the  observance."  We  certainly 
presented  a  creditable  appearance.  Wealth  was  all 
around  us,  but  how  trifling  it  seemed  in  comparison 
with  the  wealth  of  sinews  and  of  patriotic  hopes  embodied 
in  that  small  portion  of  a  nation's  guard.  I  send  you  an 
extract  from  the  Home  Journal  as  a  part  of  our  history  : 

"A    COLONEL    AKMED    WITH    A    CRUTCH. 

"  The  '  sight'  of  the  afternoon,  for  the  youthful  *  Fash 
ion,'  beau  and  belle,  who  were  in  promenade,  was  a  Mas 
sachusetts  regiment,  which,  in  its  transit  through  the 
city,  on  its  way  to  the  war,  had  taken  occasion  to  make 
a  parade  march  through  the  expanding  length  of  this  our 
Avenue  of  wealth.  Our  own  chief  object  of  interest, 
however,  was  the  colonel  in  command,  armed,  as  we 
above  mentioned,  with  the  very  unaccustomed  weapon 
of  a  crutch  ! 

"  The  colonel  (whose  name  was  FRANK  BARTLETT,  if  we 
were  rightly  informed)  was  mounted  on  a  Vermont  horse 
with  shaggy  brown  mane  and  fetlocks,  an  animal  that 
looked  as  sensible  in  the  face  as  he  was  lithe  of  limb — a 
most  capital  friend  for  a  soldier  to  take  with  him  to  the 
wars.  The  equipments,  as  well  as  the  limbs  of  the  rider, 
were  apparently  all  complete,  each  long  boot  with  its 
spur  riding  gracefully  in  its  stirrup.  Pistols  and  sword 
were  in  their  places.  At  the  horseman's  back,  however, 
poised  like  the  long  spear  at  the  back  of  the  lancer — 
swung  the  strange  implement  which  told  the  story,  a 
long  crutch  with  velvet  handle,  betraying  the  wooden 
leg  for  which  it  stood  ready  to  do  service.  The  limb 
was  lost  (we  were  told)  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run  ;  and, 
with  the  wounds  of  his  amputation  healed,  the  heroic  sol 
dier  was  now  returning  to  active  duty,  leading  his  regi- 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  77 

merit  to  the  field  with  an  alacrity  that  was  little  like  a 
cripple !  He  rode  up  and  down  the  line,  in  fact,  with  the 
confidence  and  ease  of  a  fine  horseman — the  wooden  leg 
having,  at  any  rate,  no  limp  in  its  equitation  ! 

"  We  were  pleased  with  the  physiognomy  of  the  wound 
ed  colonel.  His  head  was  well  sot  upon  an  unusually 
slight  frame,  and  his  features  were  of  the  most  intellect 
ual  cast,  pale  and  thin.  He  had  the  sandy  hair  and  blue 
eye  of  New  England,  and,  under  the  slouched  hat  of  the 
cavalry  officer,  he  was  a  picturesque  type  of  the  intelli 
gent  energy  which  the  sculptor  would  strive  to  express  in 
modelling  '  the  Yankee.'  To  him  and  his  brother  offi 
cers  (an  uncommonly  fine-looking  set  of  fellows !)  we  would 
insure  a  bright  welcome,  if  they  should  come  this  way 
in  '  returning  from  the  war.' 

"  On  the  regiment  itself,  as  they  stood  in  long  line,  with 
their  winter  accoutrement  of  blue  great-coat  and  slouched 
hat,  knapsack,  and  weapon — on  their  Massachusetts  faces, 
that  is  to  say — we  looked  with  great  interest !  We  saw 
the  qualities  of  which  we  knew  well  the  depth  and  mettle. 
They  looked  hardy  and  honest,  quiet  and  cool.  For  en 
durance  in  the  campaign  of  hardship  that  is  before  them 
— for  the  weariness  and  deprivation  as  well  as  for  the' 
fighting  when  it  comes — they  are  the  stuff!  We  gave 
them,  with  a  njoist  eye,  the  '  God  bless  you !'  of  a  broth 
er  countryman,  as  they  went  from  us  to  their  '  forward 
march.' " 


78  LIFE    WITH   THE   FOETY-NINTII 


LETTER  XIV. 

CAMP  BANKS,  Loxo  ISLAND,  N.  Y.,  December  22,  1862. 
My  DEAR  L. : 

Instead  of  turning  up  amid  the  orange  groves  of  Loui 
siana  as  expected,  we  find  ourselves  encamped  on  an  old 
race- course,  and  a  precious,  long-to-be-remembered  time 
\ve  have  had  of  it.  On  the  fourth  instant,  we  march.--! 
round  Broadway  to  Peck  Slip,  there  crossed  East  River, 
and  on  foot  wended  our  way,  ten  miles  in  all,  through 
the  mud  to  this  delectable  place.  Cold  and  hungry,  we 
reached  here  at  nightfall,  and  fell  to  work  building  our 
little  village,  which  accomplished,  we  adjourned  to  a  cele 
brated  New  York  restaurant  for  supper.  Ye  Gods !  such 
a  supper  for  hungry  men  !  The  gentlemanly  proprietors 
promised  our  kind  Uncle  Samuel  that  they  would  take 
care  of  each  man  for  the  munificent  sum  of  twenty-one 
cents  per  day,  providing  all  known  and  unknown  luxu 
ries,  waiters,  cooks,  <fcc.,  &c.  Fresh  from  the  comforts 
of  home,  and  in  the  very  heart  of  plenty,  we  bore  it 
awhile,  but  finding  being  kept  at  twenty-one  cents  a  day, 
meant  a  mere  keeping  from  starvation,  some  grumbling 
arose,  and  as  the  cold  and  discomfort  increased,  the  grum 
bling  began  to  sound  like  threats  and  curses,  and  no  one 
could  well  tell  what  would  have  happened  had  not  the  con 
tractors  promised  us  a  good  hash  and  boiled  breakfast  for 
Sunday  morning.  Hope  carried  us  through  the  Saturday 
night,  when  waking  early  at  the  bidding  of  Jack  Frost, 
not  waiting  for  Baker,  of  Co.  II,  our  chief  bugler,  to  sound 
the  reveille,  with  cup,  plate,  and  knife  in  hand,  we  re 
paired  to  the  cook  shop.  There  was  some  delay  there, 
but,  knowing  an  extra  meal  was  in  preparation,  we  wait- 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  79 

ed  patiently  till  the  welcome  signal  came.  Into  the  half- 
dark  shop  we  went.  There  was  the  smoking  hash  the 
savory  vegetables,  and  the  steaming  coffee,  a  pleasing  pros 
pect  for  cold  and  hungry  patriots.  Rapidly  the  hash  dis 
appeared,  the  boiled  vegetables  followed,  till  some  one 
sooner  satiated  than  the  rest,  began  to  analyze  the  sump, 
tuous  feast.  As  the  light  increased,  others  joined  in  the 
analysis.  "  Chat's  the  matter,  Jim  ?"  "  What's  the 
matter  ?  look  here  !"  and  lo !  a  turnip  and  then  a  potatoe 
each  having  a  hole  in  it,  showing  how  contractors  make 
candle-sticks.  "  Eugh  !  let  me  out,  I  can't  stand  this," 
and  Frank  not  being  able  to  get  out,  made  a  speedy  de 
posit  of  the  rich  food  on  the  floor  and  surroundings. 
"Frank,  what  in  thunder  ails  you  ?"  "Rats  !"  was  the 
faint  ejaculation,  as  Frank  gave  up,  rather  ungratefully, 
the  remainder  of  his  breakfast.  And  rats  it  was,  or  rath 
er  had  been,  for  our  hash-tub  had  been  uncovered  over 
night,  and  the  rats  had  left  unmistakable  evidences  that 
they  had  eaten  more  than  they  could  conveniently  carry 
away,  and  so  dropped  a  little  to  season  what  remained. 
Well,  there  was  an  uproar  that  seemed  to  postpone  the 
observance  of  the  Sabbath,  to  "  a  more  convenient  sea 
son."  Still,  hungry  men  came  rushing  in  from  other 
regiments,  who,  on  hearing  of  their  ^breakfast,  fell  to  de 
molishing  every  thing  that  could  be  demolished,  seeking 
for  the  contractors  to  demolish  them.  Fortunately  they 
saved  their  hash.  Lynch  law  is  but  the  primitive  admin 
istration  of  justice,  or  the  grappling  with  an  emergency 
or  atrocity  not  within  the  ken  of  the  statute.  Ministers 
of  vengeance  we  are  by  the  call  of  our  country,  then  we 
only  anticipated  our  time.  Ye  dear  stay-at-home  patriots 
rising  from  warm  beds  to  partake  of  healthy  inviting  food, 
don't  make  any  long  prayers  to  stay  the  fearful  spread  of 
army-demoralization,  if  we  did  "  gut  the  cook-shop." 
Bastile,  when  taken,  was  destroyed  and  the  world  ap 
plauded  ;  so  applaud  ye  that  your  sons  will  not  endure 
shameful  oppression,  wThether  in  New  York  or  Louisiana. 


80  LIFE    WITH    THE    FOKTY-MVHI 

The  fire  started,  it  did  not  burn  out  without  extending 
its  ravages.  Sleeping  in  shelter  tents,  tents  five  feet  long, 
four  high,  and  without  ends,  the  Fifty-third  were  rife  for 
fun  or  riot,  and  fancying  that  their  sutler  had  aggrieved 
them,  they  made  short  work  with  his  shanty,  and  appropri 
ated  his  goods  without  stopping  to  inquire  their  respec 
tive  prices.  In  connection  Avith  others,  they  then  visited 
the  shop  of  our  sutler,  who  had  not  aggrieved  them,  and 
injured  him  to  the  tune  of  a  thousand  dollars,  more  or 
less.  This  was  not  righteous  indignation,  but  robbeiy. 
A  building,  containing  a  large  quantity  of  powder,  was 
partially  destroyed,  and  the  boards  carried  off  for  fuel. 
I  don't  blame  them  for  t/urt.  Put  soldiers,  half  starved, 
among  loyal  citizens,  in  canvas  tents,  give  them  each 
one  shoddy  blanket,  add  a  fierce  wind  with  the  mercury 
near  zero,  and  you  have  all  the  ingredients  of  a  riot.  Such 
was  our  condition  on  Saturday  and  Sunday,  the  sixth  and 
seventh  of  December,  1862.  I  contend  we  had  a  right 
to  run  the  government  in  debt  for  all  the  loose  boards 
we  could  find.  That  it  was  a  wild,  high,  wanning  frolic, 
instead  of  a  riot,  proclaims  the  praise  of  Massachusetts 
soldiers.  General  Andrew  sent  an  officer  down  to  our 
camp  that  Sunday  morning,  but  could  find  few  of  our  offi 
cers  about,  and,  though  it  may  have  shown  a  laxity  in 
discipline,  Major  Flunkett,  who  was  in  command,  acted 
as  a  man  of  humanity,  in  giving  furloughs  to  nearly  all 
till  sundown,  that  we  might  care  for  ourselves.  We  were 
no  better  off,  having  taken  up  our  quarters  in  a  deserted 
horse-shed,  and  because  there  were  eight  tons  of  powder 
in  the  adjoining  shed,  we  were  not  allowed  to  have  a 
fire.  Making  up  our  minds  that  it  were  pleasantef  to  be 
blown  up  than  to  freeze,  fire  we  had,  in  defiance  of  orders 
to  the  contrary.  In  the  horse-shed  we  are  still  existing, 
while  the  boys  still  endure  their  tents.  As  we  now  sub 
sist  them,  they  do  not  complain  of  their  food,  and  having 
erected  large  cook-houses,  they  can  occasional ly  get 
warmed  through.  Why  we  were  ever  removed  from 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  81 

Worcester  to  this  hole,  we  know  not.  Governor  An 
drew  did  all  he  could  to  keep  us  in  the  state  till  we  should 
start  South. 

One  of  our  men  was  murdered  since  I  last  wrote  you. 
His  name  was  William  Stelfax,  of  Co.  C,  from  Pittsfield. 
He  was  an  Englishman  by  birth,  twenty-five  years  of  age, 
and  leaves  a  family.  Though  wild,  he  was  a  good  sol 
dier  and  added  much  to  our  amusement.  On  that  bitter 
ly  cold  Sunday,  .December  7th,  he  went  to  one  of  the 
camps  near  East  New  York,  and  on  his  return,  stopped 
at  a  saloon  kept  by  a  German  named  Sehellein.  On  leav 
ing,  Stelfax  bought  and  paid  for  a  pint  of  whiskey,  which, 
on  being  put  into  his  canteen,  he  asserted  was  only  half 
a  pint.  Sehellein  gave  him  the  lie  and  knocked  him  down. 
Several  Germans  were  in  the  shop,  who  sided  with  the 
landlord,  and  who  with  slung  shots  again  knocked  Stelfax 
down  and  also  his  comrade  McDonald,  of  Co.  C.  They 
left,  but  Stelfax  returned  and  kicked  the  door,  when  four 
muskets  were  fired,  on3  discharge  entering  Stelfax's  back, 
causing  his  death  in  a  few  minutes.  When  this  murder 
became  known  at  the  surrounding  camps,  the  soldiers 
came,  sacked  the  house,  placed  a  rope  to  a  tree  intending 
to  hang  Sehellein  if  they  found  him,  but  not  finding  him 
set  the  building  on  fire,  burning  it  to  the  ground.  I  am 
happy  to  say,  that  the  Forty-ninth  had  no  part  in  burn 
ing  either  the  cook  shops  or  this  house.  Major  Plun- 
kett  was  there  and  searched  the  house  for  the  murderer, 
and  finding  he  could  not  prevent  its  destruction,  ordered 
his  men  to  leave,  and  they  did  so,  though,  if  human,  they 
did  not  look  on  the  fire  with  much  disapprobation.  On 
that  same  Sunday,  John  Mallally,  of  Co.  C,  lost  a  leg  by 
being  run  over  by  the  cars. 

Near  two  hundred  of  our  regiment,  with  many  officers, 
are  doing  provost  duty  in  New  York,  or,  in  other  words, 
arresting  deserters.  In  doing  this  work,  they  meet  inter 
est  and  danger,  and  having  good  quarters,  they  prefer  it 
to  the  discomforts  and  monotony  of  camp.  Lieutenant 
4* 


82  Lin:  WITH  THE  FOTCTY-XIXTII 

Kniffin  of  Co.  B,  :  nt provost-marshal.     Of  course 

he  does  well  in  that  position.  Doing  well  with  hi 
the  rule,  not  the  exception.  On  the  Cth  instant,  Co.  C 
held  an  election,  and  Lieutenant  Foster  was  chosen  cap 
tain,  and  Second  Lieutenant  Wells,  first  lieutenant,  and 
Fourth  Sergeant  George  R.  Lingenfelter,  second  lieuten 
ant. 

There  must  have  been  nearly  thirty  thousand  troops 
here  on  Long  Island  when  we  came  here.  Measles  arc 
making  sad  work  with  the  Maine  boys,  and  we  have  for 
ty-seven  on  our  sick  list,  but  no  dangerous  cases.  Col 
onel  Bartlett  is  now  commandant  of  the  post.  Our  offi 
cial  title  is  "Banks's  remainder  expedition."  Expedi 
tion  to  where,  we  can  only  guess  at  Texas,  we  all  say, 
and  hope.  Some  of  our  neighbors  have  already  sailed 
with  Banks,  and  we  would  be  glad  to  follow  them  to 
morrow.  General  Wool  expresses  his  determination  to 
keep  us  here  as  provost-guards,  saying  he  can  rely  on  ?<x. 
If  so,  here  will  mean  Troy,  Albany,  all  over  his  depart 
ment.  While  this  is  complimentary  to  us,  we  hope  Gen 
eral  Andrew  will  come  off  conqueror,  and  take  us  with 
him  to  Dixie  as  his  body-guard,  as  he  says  he  will  do.  So, 
the  two  generals  must  light  it  out. 

Quito  a  number  of  us  have  been  to  hear  Beechcr.  Of 
course  we  were  interested,  lie  is  greater  in  the  pulpit 
than  on  the  platform.  Perchance,  because  in  the  former 
he  is  less  cramped  by  notes.  He  is  a  provoking  charac 
ter.  You  have  to  call  him  an  orator,  though  he  violates 
nearly  all  the  rules  of  oratory.  His  gesticulations  are 
wild,  and  scarcely  ever  in  harmony  with  his  subject. 
Something  there  must  be  defective  in  his  oratory.  A 
truly  eloquent  man  will  not  always  make  ineloquent  ges 
ture.  The  fact  is,  Beecher  is  not  eloquent.  There  is 
much  vehemence  about  him,  and  but  little  intensity  ; 
much  fine  word-painting,  much  arousing  speech,  but  little 
awakening  the  passions  of  the  human  heart.  lie  is  sin 
gularly  devoid  of  pathos.  He  can  move  his  audience  lo 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  83 

tears  of  exultation  or  indignation,  but  he  rarely  touches 
the  deeper  emotions  of  their  souls.  I  say  he  is  greater 
in  the  pulpit  than  on  the  platform  ;  but  in  the  former  he  is 
not  the  great  preacher,  only  the  greater,  because  less  re 
strained,  lecturer.  He  is  more  esthetic  than  emotional. 
He  defends  the  right,  however  unpopular,  because  it  is 
right ;  and  his  nature  is  so  healthy,  that  he  detects  wrong 
with  a  fine  instinct,  and  is  so  enamored  of  moral  beauty, 
that  he  sees  its  opposite  only  to  shrink  from  it.  Though 
he  believes  in  the  grand  doctrines  of  Christianity,  he  ap 
pears  to  me  more  the  moral  than  the  Christian  reformer. 
He  does  not  rush  into  the  arena  dealing  his  heavy  blows 
against  sin,  shouting,  "  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth 
me,"  but  leaves  the  impression  that  he  is  champion  of 
Humanitarian  ism  rather  than  of  Christianity.  A  great, 
benevolent,  useful  man,  I  imagine  his  inner  life  would  show 
a  strange  conflict  between  orthodoxy  and  heterodoxy ;  a 
holding  to  Christ  as  a  beautiful,  lovable  character,  an  in 
troducer  of  men  into  the  purer  activities  of  heaven,  rather 
than  as,  primarily,  the  Saviour  of  sinners  from  the  damna 
tion  of  hell.  A  bold  man  is  Beecher,  but  he  lacks  the 
courage  to  tell  the  world  that  because  slavery  and  in 
temperance  are  peopling  the  pit  of  woe,  he  throws  him 
self  against  them.  I  did  not  intend  an  analysis  of  the 
foremost  preacher  in  the  land,  but  let  it  go.  Hearing 
him  was  quite  an  event  in  our  war  life,  and  has  furnished 
us  with  something  to  talk  over.  Crowds  of -soldiers  were 
there,  and  if  you  want  to  appreciate  in  some  degree  the 
honor  of  a  soldier's  position,  just  put  on  an  army  over 
coat  and  cap,  and  go  to  Plymouth  Church.  You  will  be 
treated  as  one  of  the  defenders  of  a  free  gospel.  At  the 
close  of  the  evening  service,  Mr.  Beecher  married  an  offi 
cer  of  a  Maine  regiment  to  the  lady  of  his  choice.  His 
remarks  were  very  appropriate ;  and  to  us  soldiers,  the 
whole  affair  was  very  solemn  and  impressive.  She  has, 
at  least,  secured,  if  not  a  husband's  care,  a  right  to  bear 
his  name  and  to  mourn  for  him ;  and,  if  sorrow  too  great 


84  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

for  concealment  should  visit  her,  the  privileges  of  a  re 
spected  grief. 

Companies  used  to  range  in  alphabetical  order,  but  now 
they  stand  according  to  the  rank  of  their  respective  com 
manders.  Captain  Weller  holds  the  right,  the  post  of 
honor,  as  senior  captain.  Captain  Garlick  the  left,  as 
second  in  honor,  and  Captain  Train  the  centre,  as  third  in 
rank.  His  is  the  color  company.  Rank  and  honor  seem 
to  go  according  to  priority  of  commissions.  Commencing 
at  the  right,  we  thus  stand :  A,  H,  F,  D,  E,  I,  G,  C,  K, 
B,  the  number  of  the  company  corresponding  with  its 
position  in  the  battalion,  while  the  number  of  the  captain 
accords  with  the  date  of  his  commission. 

Perchance  you  would  like  to  know  the  grades  of  pay, 
as  well  as  the  grades  of  rank ;  the  following  table  Avill 
give  you  all  needed  information.  It  may  be  well  to  ad 
vise  you,  that  while  the  government  supplies  "  enlisted 
men"  with  food,  clothing,  and  medical  attendance  in  ad 
dition  to  their  pay,  the  officers  are  obliged  to  feed,  clothe, 
and  equip  themselves.  If  sick,  they  have  a  right  to  the 
attendance  of  the  surgeon,  but  not  to  a  place  in  the  hos 
pital  without  pay.  They  are  usually  charged  seventy-five 
cents  per  day,  but,  I  apprehend,  charging  is  the  excep 
tion,  not  the  rule.  Considering  that  the  government  al 
lows  each  of  them  one  dollar  and  twenty  cents  per  day 
for  subsistence,  this  is  not  a  hard  rule. 

Captains  or  commanders  of  companies  are  allowed  $10 
per  month  each  for  the  responsibility  of  clothing,  arms, 
and  accoutrements. 

It  is  presumed,  that  where  officers  have  no  servants  or 
horses,  they  do  not  draw  pay  for  them.  Facts  show  this 
to  be  a  very  violent  presumption. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS. 


85 


OFFICERS  OF  INFANTRY. 

1 

a 
(2 

<4-    -O 

fell 
*2  ^ 

c  ~ 

£~ 

|''|  g 

£B'" 
3 

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IP 

'! 

II 
^  ''-• 

ill 

1=1 
S  3 
S 

3 

a 

fi 
1 

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$       CtB. 

222  00 

198  00 
179  00 
1S9  00 
120  50 
11(1  r>() 
105  50 

18  00 

26  00 

121  83 

Colonel 

$  cts. 

95  00 
80  00 
70  00 
80  00 
60  00 
50  00 
45  00 

10  00 

10  00 
53  33 
30  00 
21  00 
21  00 
21  00 
20  00 
17  00 
13  00 
13  00 
21  00 
13  00 

G 
5 
4 
4 
4 
4 
4 

$  cts. 

54  00 
45  00 
36  00 
36  00 
86  00 
36  00 
36  00 

3 
3 
3 
3 

$    cts. 

24  00 
24  00 
24  00 
24  00 

2 
2 
2 
2 
1 
1 
1 

1 

1 
1 

$   cts. 

49  00 
49  00 
49  00 
49  00 
24  50 
24  50 
24  50 

24  50 

24  50 
24  50 

Lieutenant-Colonel  

Captain                   

Second  Lieutenant  

1 

2 
1 

8  00 

16  00 
8  00 

Adjutant,  in  addition  to  pay,  etc., 
of  Lieutenant  

Quartermaster,    in    addition    to 
pay,  etc.,  of  Lieutenant  

4 

36  66 

Hospital  Steward 

Quartermaster  Serireant  

Commissary  Sergeant  . 

First  Sergeant 

Sergeant    .               . 

Private  

Principal  Musician 

86  LIFE    WITH    THE    FOKTY-XINTII 


LETTER  XV. 

LONG  ISLAND,  N.  T.,  January  0,  1SG3. 
MY  DEAK  L. : 

Here  we  are  at  Snedeker's  barracks,  which  are  noth 
ing  more  than  stables  and  barns  fitted  up  for  soldiers. 
They  are  a  decided  improvement  on  the  canvas  tents  in 
which  we  shivered  from  December  4th  to  23d.  True, 
we  have  but  about  two  hundred  feet  square  we  can  call 
our  own,  which,  in  this  rainy  weather,  is  a  mud  puddle, 
and  our  bed-rooms  are  stalls,  and  fires  are  not  allowed, 
yet  we  are  quite  cosy.  We  can  keep  warm,  for  our  sta 
bles  are  tight  and  we  have  plenty  of  good  straw,  and  if 
vermin  visit  us,  why  the  extra  scratching  will  render 
flesh-brushes  superfluous.  The  barracks  were  cleansed 
before  we  took  possession,  but  our  predecessors,  thinking 
they  could  find  a  new  stock  on  ship-board,  left  that, 
which  we  could  have  dispensed  with,  having  some  of  our 
own  on  hand — lice.  Fine  combs,  frequent  washing's  and 
unguentum,  preserve  to  us  a  doubtful  victory.  Our  vic 
tories  might  be  permanent,  had  we  not  some  comrades 
who  never  raise  the  cry  of  extermination.  Thicker  cu 
ticles  or  the  force  of  old  habits  prevent  them  seeing  that 
"  cleanliness  is  next  to  godliness."  T/tix  is  one  of  the 
drawbacks  to  the  pleasure  of  soldiering.  Hunting  reb 
els  and  traitors  through  forests  and  swamps,  /,•//////;/  them 
for  the  sake  of  humanity,  has  something  poetic  and  inspi 
ring  about  it,  but  hunting  seams  and  hems  of  garments 
for  "  crummies"  and  showing  them  no  quarter,  is  an  oc 
cupation,  that  the  concentrated  genius  of  all  the  poets 
from  Homer  down  to  Tennyson  cannot  invest  with  tlie 
beautiful.  Some  say,  all  animal  life  will  have  a  renewed 
and  glorified  existence  in  Heaven.  If  so,  u  I  pray  thce 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  87 

have  me  excused."  Our  boys  generally  keep  clean,  but 
there  are  enough  lovers  of  dirt  among  us  to  secure 
us  an  unbroken  succession  of  vermin.  You  know  how 
brief  your  ablutions  in  a  cold  room,  and  washing  in  win 
ter  time  at  the  out-door  pump  is  not  apt  to  result  in  per 
fect  cleanliness.  Did  you  ever  wash  a  woolen  shirt  in 
cold  water,  while  standing  in  the  cold  ?  If  so,  enough's 
said;  you  can  understand  why  some  soldiers  do  not 
change  their  under-clothes  more  than  once  a  month. 
Do  not  imagine  that  filthiness  is  one  of  our  vices.  Far 
from  it.  Though  not  as  clean  as  we  would  be  at  home, 
yet,  as  a  regiment,  we  are  "  Excelsior."  Dr.  Winsor  is 
active  and  conscientious  in  the  discharge  of  his  duties, 
and  sees,  to  it  that  we  keep  ourselves  in  passable  order, 
and  every  man  must  appear  at  dress  parade  neat  and 
clean,  yet  after  all,  there  will  be  some  who,  keeping  the 
outside  of  the  platter  clean,  leave  the  inside  corrupt  and 
denied.  Compared  with  sickness,  wounds,  death,  this 
familiarity  with  dirt  is  a  small  thing,  but  judge  ye  (and 
there  are  many  men  in  this  regiment  who  have  been  nur 
tured  more  delicately  than  yourself)  by  it  some  of  the 
minor  sacrifices  of  a  soldier's  life.  And  that  life  is  full 
of  such  minor  sacrifices,  rendered  bearable  only  by  con 
sidering  them  as  necessary  to  a  nation's  preservation. 
We  must  go  to  bed  and  rise  at  stated  hours ;  we  may 
not  know  the  luxury  of  a  stool,  to  say  nothing  of  an  arm 
chair,  with  the  accompaniments  of  a  pipe,  a  book,  a  bla 
zing  fire,  a  shaded  lamp,  and  a  congenial  companion, 
whose  silence  is  more  eloquent  and  sympathetic  than  the 
words  of  many  men.  To  live  "  cribbed,  cabined,  con 
fined,"  not  able  to  leave  our  pen  without  soliciting  per 
mission  from,  a  temporary  superior ;  to  eat  food  poorly 
cooked,  with  beans,  meat,  rice,  molasses,  potatoes,  all  on 
the  same  plate,  making  us  half  believe  our  friends  at  home 
"have  sent  us  here  as  a  punishment  for  the  over  particu- 
larness  of  the  past ;  to  obey  unansweringly  men,  some 
of  whom  we  know  are  our  inferiors  in  everviliinG:  but 


88  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

rank  ;  to  hear,  with  no  chance  of  escape,  profanity  and 
obscenity;  to  lie  on  straw  in  a  close,  unventilated  stall, 
(soldiers  are  sv.orn  enemies  to  ventilation,  especially 
those  from  the  country) ;  to  find  to-day's  duties  so  simi 
lar  to  those  of  yesterday  that  it  is  difficult  to  recall  the 
day  of  the  week  ;  to  realize  that  you  are  mentally  stag 
nating,  with  scarce  a  book  to  stir  up  the  pool  of  thought ; 
to  find  ambition  and  energy  dying  before  monotony  and 
ennui ;  these  and  a  hundred  other  things  are  the  un 
known,  unappreciated  sacrifices,  every  intelligent  sol<I»-r 
is  called  on  to  make.  More  strictly  do  these  remarks  ap 
ply  to  troops  in  winter  quarters.  Save  a  short  morning 
drill  and  dress  parade,  we  have  no  exercise.  Is  it  any 
wonder  that  our  muscles  become  flabby,  and  with  appe 
tites  unnaturally  keen,  our  digestion  is  impaired,  so  that 
the  soldier's  foe,  Diarrhcra,  even  now  visits  us  ?  Our 
mental  natures  being  in  abeyance,  the  physical  becomes 
more  arrogant,  so  that  even  our  meals  are  the  great  epi 
sodes  of  the  day.  You  would  be  surprised  at  our  appe 
tites,  and  seeing  us  drink  from  two  to  three  quarts  of  coffee 
or  tea  daily,  would  wonder  that  we  are  not  all  on  the 
sick  list.  Do  not  think  we  complain.  No,  we  receive 
these  things  as  a  necessary  prelude  to  the  sacred  duties 
of  battle,  yet  wish  it  otherwise,  believing  that  the  prelude 
weakens  us.  Troops  would  learn  the  tactics  of  war  soon 
er,  would  carry  with  them  more  enthusiasm,  could  they 
go  at  once  from  their  rendezvous  into  active  service.  Two 
weeks  of  drilling  near  an  enemy  would  have  advanced 
us  as  much  as  we  havo  advanced  in  all  these  months,  and 
added  greatly  to  our  enthusiasm.  We  are  mental,  if  ma 
chines,  and  the  dry  routine  of  barrack-life  is  using  the 
machines  without  any  oil. 

A  friend  of  J.  E.,  Sergeant  of  Co.  F,  has  presented  us 
with  an  army  library  of  one  hundred  volumes.  The 
books  are  such  as  are  published  by  the  American  Tract 
Society,  Boston,  the  reading  of  which  will  tend  to  keep 
fresh  the  solemn  earnestness  that  moved  many  of  us  to 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  89 

enlist.     I  used  to  denounce  card  playing,  not  as  a  sin 
per  se,  but  as  a  foolish  wasting  of  time,  and  as  leading  to 
many  vices.     I   do   not  denounce   it   now,  and  can   only 
wish    it    was   never   more    abused   than   by  our  boys. 
Give  a  man  friends,  books,  to  make  pleasant  and  profit 
able  his  leisure  hours,  and  card  playing  is  only  less  silly 
than  dancing.     What  shall  our  poor  fellows  do  ?     Al 
most  nothing  to  do  or  to  read,  how  shall  they  spend  their 
time  ?     Tf  John  Wesley  was  right  in  declaring  it- not  ex 
pedient  to  converse  on  religious  subjects  more  than  an 
hour  at  a  time,  how  can  we  expect  a  crowd  of  men,  many 
of  whom  are  irreligious,  to  spend  their  hours  profitably 
in  conversation  ?     Soldiers  are  really  overgrown  children, 
and  need  playthings,  amusements.     Certes,  I  have  never 
had  the  heart  to  deny  them  the  pleasure,  the  mental  ex 
citement  of  cards.     Very  seldom  do  you  see  any  card 
playing  on  Sundays,  though  in  the  absence  of  religious 
services,  and  of  the  usual  drill,  it  is  the  longest  day  of  the 
week.     Colonel   Bartlett  has   occasionally  read  in   our 
presence  the  Episcopal  service,  but  as  he  has  been  for 
some  time  engaged  in  New  York  as  acting  Brigadier- 
General,  those   occasions   have  been  very  rare.     I   am 
pained  to  confess  that  profanity  is  increasing  among  us. 
It  does  not  seem  to  result  from  increased  wickedness  so 
much  as  from  forgetfulness  of  God.     I  have  asked  some 
of  the  most  recklessly  profane,  if  they  were  in  the  habit 
of  swearing  at  home.     Most  of  them  said  they  were  not. 
It  is  a  fungus  of  camp  soil.     The  colonel  has  endeavored 
to  put  a  stop  to  it,  and  had  the  army  regulations  relative 
to  it,  read  on  dress  parade.     For  each  oath,  an  officer  is 
fined  one  dollar,  and  cashiering  is  the  threatened  penalty 
of  continued  profanity;  'while  one-sixth  of  a  dollar  is  for 
feited  by  a  private  for  each  offence,  and  some  kind  of  cor 
poreal  punishment  for  a  continuation  of  the  habit.     We 
were   all  sworn  into  the  service,  and  if  these  penalties 
should  be   enforced,  a   good  many  would   swear   them 
selves  out,  and  go  home  penniless.     I  am  glad  that  the 


90  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTV-MNTFI 

army  regulations  read  as  they  do — it  is  something  to  be 
right,  though  in  naught  but  books — but  how  to  enforce 
1  lu 'in  is  du'  question.  A  profane  officer  will  not  bring 
charges,  ami  an  unenviable  life  that  private  would  have 
who  should  assume  to  be  the  Mentor  of  the  regiment.  Cer 
tainly,  he  would  require  to  be  put  on  detached  and  extra 
duty  too,  and  if  he  should  receive  a  moiety  of  the  lines, 
would  iind  his  position  the  most  lucrative  in  the  service. 
Hiring  men  to  play  the  spy,  the  informer,  will  not  rectify 
this  evil.  Nothing  but  religious  truth  pressed  upon  the 
heart,  backed  by  the  example  of  officers,  will  remove  this 
fearful,  vengeance-inviting  reproach.  If  you  imagine  that 
profanity  is  the  general  rule,  you  will  wrong  both  officers 
and  men.  Many  have  not  yet  forgotten  the  teachings  of 
earlier  days.  Quite  a  party  of  us  were  talking  on  this  sub 
ject  the  other  evening,  and  we  counted  up  the  officers  who 
were  not  known  to  be  profane.  Quite  a  respectable  majori 
ty  appeared  on  the  side  of  morality.  The  colonel  was  the 
recipient  of  some  oaths  at  Worcester.  After  "taps"  he 
was  making  his  nightly  perambulation,  and  on  hearing 
some  noise  in  one  of  the  barracks,  he  opened  the  door 
thereof  and  commanded  quiet.  Not  recognizing  his 
voice,  but  recognizing  the  gust  of  cold  air,  they  ordered 
him  to  shut  the  door,  and  begone,  in  language  stronger 
than  contemplated  in  the  army  regulations.  When  they 
found  out  who  the  intruder  was,  there  was  a  noiseless 
creeping  to  bunks,  and  a  great  calm,  only  broken  by  the 
loud  snoring  of  those  who  had  so  suddenly  abandoned 
the  practice  of  swearing.  Like  a  sensible  man,  as  he  is, 
the  colonel  went  on  his  way,  if  not  rejoicing,  at  least 
amused. 

Though,  since  his  election,  we  have  seen  comparatively 
but  little  of  him,  that  little  has  only  increased  our  confi 
dence.  Daily,  he  draws  the  reins  of  discipline  tighter, 
but  with  such  judgment,  that  we  are  learning  subordina 
tion  without  complaining.  He  would  have  to  draw  them 
very  tight  indeed  before  \vc  would  rear  or  kick.  JSingu- 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  91 

lar,  what  command  he  has  over  men.  He  is  a  born  com 
mander.  Quiet,  reserved,  yet  there  is  not  a  man  or  offi 
cer  in  the  regiment  who  does  not  feel  that  obedience  to 
him  is  half  involuntary.  While  no  one  more  than  him 
self  is  a  stickler  for  military  etiquette  and  for  a  proper 
respect  paid  to  superior  rank,  yet  no  one  is  less  assuming 
or  dictatorial.  Emphatically,  he  treats  a  private  as  well 
as  an  officer.  I  have  known  when  he  has,  as  he  afterwards 
ascertained,  wrongly  rebuked  a  common  soldier,  send 
for  him  and  frankly  apologize.  You  can  imagine  nothing 
that  would  so  strongly  bind  to  him  the  hearts  of  a  proud 
soldiery,  who,  but  yesterday,  were  the  peers,  if  not  supe 
riors  of  many  of  their  officers.  He  might  visit  the  men 
in  their  quarters,  or  in  the  hospital,  and  speak  jocular  or 
sympathetic  words,  and  they  would  call  him  a  jolly  or 
fine  fellow  ;  he  might  buy  them  holiday  luxuries  and  in 
stitute  games  for  their  amusement,  and  they  would  praise 
him,  but  all  that  would  not  awaken  such  reverence  for, 
and  confidence  in  him  as  that  simple  apology,  recogniz 
ing,  as  it  does,  that  each  soldier  is  a  man,  and  presuming 
he  has  the  feelings  of  a  gentleman,  which  even  a  colonel 
is  bound  to  respect.  To  awaken  affection  by  the  arts  of 
the  demagogue,  is  not  in  him.  He  could  not  do  so  if  he 
were  to  try.  Naturally  he  is  the  exclusive,  the  aristocrat. 
The  adjutant,  his  former  college  mate,  lives  with  him  as 
a  brother.  I  know  not  how  great  is  his  intimacy  with 
the  field  officers,  but  he  is  not  intimate  with  the  line  offi 
cers,  (captains  and  lieutenants  are  called  line  officers,  the 
others  are  called  field  and  staff  officers.)  A  recognition 
of  the  distinction .  of  rank  may  have  something  to  do  with 
this,  but  natural  reserve,  and  perchance  some  diffidence 
underlies  it  all.  Our  democratic  love  of  equality  was 
somewhat  startled  by  the  reading  of  an  order  on  dress 
parade  to  this  effect :  that  soldiers  will  not  sit  down  in 
officers'  tents  unless  invited,  and  on  entering  them  will 
remove  their  hats.  We  were  unnecessarily  startled,  for 
it  was  merely  stating  that  an  officer's  tent  is  his  private 


92  LIFE    WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

dwelling,  and  in  it  we  should  observe  the  proprieties  duo 
from  one  gentleman  to  another.  Some  of  us,  with  foolish 
pride,  iind  it  hard  to  cheerfully  recognize  superiority  of 
rank.  Saluting  a  superior  does  not  imply  any  inherent 
inferiority  in  us  ;  we  salute  the  rank,  not  the  man  /////•//.•/.". 
Prouder,  really,  are  we  who  salute,  than  they  who  rec- 
and  return  it,  for  by  the  very  act,  we  evidence  a  more 
sacrificing  patriotism.  Though  Captain  Chaffee  told  the 
colonel  that  there  were  men  in  his  company  (D)  who 
would  grace  the  saddle  (field  officers,  you  know,  are  al 
lowed  horses),  and  so  there  are,  yet  he  and  all  were  not 
unwilling  to  have  their  tents  secured  to  themselves.  I 
have  seen  many  an  officer's  tent  crowded  with  loungers. 
That  order  has  made  those  same  tents  so  much  more  com 
modious,  that  I  shrewdly  suspect  that  the  colonel  was 
only  its  adopted  father.  No  order  has  ever  been  necessa 
ry  to  secure  to  him  the  same  respect  he  claimed  for  his 
brother  officers.  We  have  a  noble  set  of  officers.  They 
"  bear  their  blushing  honors  meekly."  You  scarcely  ever 
see  any  of  them  presuming  on  their  rank.  They  know, 
that  by  the  free  choice  of  their  men,  they  are  what  they 
are,  and  act  as  become  those  who  will,  if  spared,  soon  re 
sume  their  former  equality.  In  the  necessary  exercise  of 
discipline,  they  must  needs  offend.  It  may  anger  us 
now;  we  will  see  it  in  a  truer  light  hereafter.  The  army 
is  a  good  school  in  which  to  learn  subordination,  yet  I 
would  not  fancy  being  too  long  a  student  therein.  I  see 
how  military  despots  are  created.  Get  in  the  habit  of 
rendering  unquestioned  obedience  to  another  for  a  few 
years,  and  you  almost  lose  your  capacity  of  resisting  his 
will.  Though  older  than  most  of  our  officers,  it  will  be 
some  time  after  our  return  to  private  life,  before  I  can 
be  as  familiar  with  them  as  if  I  had  never  been  their  mili 
tary  inferior. 

We  have  had  a  change  in  our  roster.  Lieutenant 
Clark,  Co.  A,  has  been  honorably  discharged.  Sickne-^ 
prevented  his  being  with  us  save  a  few  weeks  at  Camp 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  93 

Briggs.  Second  Lieutenant  Francis  was  unanimously 
elected  to  be  his  successor  ;  and  Orderly  Sergeant  George 
Reed  unanimously  elected  second  lieutenant.  This  places 
A.  Howe  in  the  position  of  Orderly.  As  his  predecessor, 
he  was  one  of  the  three  months'  men,  and  is  worthy  of  a 
similar  promotion.  Co.  A  is  a  happy  company,  none  being 
more  united,  as  witness  the  above  unanimous  elections. 
Freer  with  their  officers,  perchance,  than  are  the  men  of 
any  other  company,  yet  no  other  company  is  under  better 
control.  They  are  worthy  of  the  right,  the  post  of  honor. 

On  the  same  day,  December  31st,  1862,  Orderly  John 
Doolittle,  merchant,  of  Monterey,  was  unanimously  chosen 
second  lieutenant,  Co.  F,  to  supply  the  vacancy  arising 
from  the  resignation  of  Lieutenant  Sweet,  who  is  prevent 
ed  from  going  with  us  by  severe  and  continued  illness. 
If  health  be  spared  him,  Lieutenant  Doolittle  will  credit 
ably  fulfil  the  duties  of  his  position.  The  promotion  of  a 
first  sergeant  by  the  unanimous  votes  of  his  company,  is 
a  good  guaranty  of  popularity. 

On  the  twenty-third  instant  we  had  another  election  in 
Co.  C,  the  governor  having  refused  to  commission  Lieuten 
ant  Foster,  who  was  previously  elected  to  that  position. 
Fourth  Sergeant  George  R.  Lingenfelter,  of  Pittsfield,  was 
duly  chosen,  having  received  nearly  all  the  votes  polled. 
He  is  a  blacksmith,  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  and  in  his  six 
feet  one  and  a  half  inches,  looks  a  proper  successor  of  the 
"  tall  major."  Though  belonging  to  that  company,  I  am 
but  little  acquainted  with  him ;  but  as  he  was  a  good 
fireman  at  home,  is  well  drilled,  and  has  always  faithfully 
discharged  his  duties,  I  hope  the  squabbles  of  Co.  C  are 
ended  in  the  election  of  a  good  commander. 

On  going  into  the  yard  or  camp  the  other  morning,  I  saw 
a  man  standing  on  a  barrel.  A  gag  was  in  his  mouth, 
his  hands  were  tied  behind  him,  and  on  his  breast  was  a 
card  on  winch  was  written,  "  a  liar."  His  captain  had 
placed  him  there  because  he  denied  knowing  the  where 
abouts  of  his  brother  who  had  absented  himself  without 


94  LIFE  WITH  THE  FORTY-NINTH 

leave.  A  crowd  gathered  round,  and,  of  course,  sympa 
thized  with  the  victim.  Some  one  proposed  three  groans 
for  the  captain,  and  if  he  had  not  speedily  released  the 
man,  there  would  have  been  a  small  mutiny.  I  don't 
know  when  I  felt  more  indignation.  Guilty  or  not 
guilty,  no  officer  has  a  right  to  punish  unless  a  court-mar 
tial  condemns  the  accused ;  yet  this  is  not  infrequently 
done.  The  punishment  of  flogging  is  abolished  in  the 
army,  and  every  commander  has  to  devise  some  substi 
tutes.  It  is  a  pity  that  men  cannot  be  punished  without 
degrading  them,  without  crushing  their  self-respect.  It 
is  well  all  have  not  as  wild  blood  in  them  as  I  felt  in  me 
while  ga/ing  on  that  poor  man.  It  seemed  then  to  me 
that,  unless  I  was  full  of  grace,  such  an  indignity  would 
awaken  "vengeance  blood  alone  could  quell."  Certainly 
I  am  not  alone  in  such  feelings.  If  so,  such  punishments, 
drying  up  self-respect  and  substituting  a  vengeful  malice, 
are  not  consistent  with  an  officer's  future  safety.  Such 
a  withering  insult  to  pride  would  make  fiends  of  many. 
Some  form  of  punishment  is  necessary — what  shall  it  be? 
Fining  the  sinner  will  not  do,  for  frequent  offences 
would  consume  all  his  wages,  and,  if  married,  beggar  his 
family.  Confinement  on  bread  and  water,  standing  on 
barrels  before  head-quarters  (now  near  the  public  road), 
carrying  ball  or  log  and  chain  attached  to  the  ankle, 
sf(.i/t<?i/if/  with  a  heavily-loaded  knapsack,  increased  guard- 
duty,  are  the  usual  penalties  of  disobedience.  The  offences 
are  not  of  a  flagrant  nature;  simply  running-guard,  stay 
ing  beyond  the  allotted  time,  and  occasionally  intemper 
ance  and  theft.  The  other  evening,  while  the  regiment 
was  drawn  up  for  dress-parade,  we  witnessed  an  amusing 
scene.  One  of  the  boys  had  imbibed  too  much  of  the  ar 
dent,  and  feeling  valorous,  made  a  charge  on  some  poul 
try.  The  enemy  fled,  save  an  ancient  goose,  which  was 
made  prisoner.  The  conquering  hero  was  bearing  away 
his  trophy,  when  he  discovered  that  the  foe  had  received 
a  re-enforcement  in  the  shape  of  a  stalwart  Dutch  (they 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  95 

are  nearly  all  Dutch  here)  dame.  Knowing  that  "hell 
hath  no  fury  like  a  \voman  scorned,"  he  concluded  that 
the  "double-quick"  was  the  best  way  to  keep  his  blood 
warm,  and  to  save  his  Christmas  dinner.  So,  off  he  ran, 
and  the  dame  after  him.  The  ardent  played  havoc  Avith 
the  "  double-quick,"  which  then  had  more  "  time"  and 
"motions"  than  are  laid  down  in  Hardee.  The  dame 
drew  nearer,  and  just  as  he  reached  the  road  where  the 
regiment  was  drawn  up,  she  grasped  him,  and  secured 
the  coveted  property.  Perchance  the  cackling  of  geese 
saved  old  Rome,  but  it  did  not  save  our  hero  from  con 
dign  punishment.  The  night's  rest  sobered  him,  and 
when  morning  came,  he  took  his  stand  upon  a  barrel 
where  he  could  overlook  the  scene  of  his  discomfiture. 
A  crowd  gathered  round  him,  and  pointing  to  the  letters 
"  U.  S."  on  his  belt,  he  wanted  to  know  what  they  stood 
for.  Some  said  "  United  States,"  and  some  "  Uncle  Sam,n 
and  others  "Union  Savers."  "No!  no!  they  stand  for 
Unfortunate  Soldier"  Pretty  good  that ;  wasn't  it  ? 
Standing  on  a  barrel  from  reveille  to  taps,  that  is  from  7 
A.  M.  to  9  P.  M.,  searched  by  a  northwester,  perchance 
for  three  consecutive  days,  is  no  light  punishment.  Endur 
ing  it,  I  have  known  men's  legs  to  swell  so  that  the  sur 
geon  demanded  their  removal.  Truly,  this  is  a  mortify 
ing  fact,  and  more  so,  because  the  punished  have  really 
deserved  some  punishment. 

There  is  a  company  here  belonging  to  the  Third  New 
York  Merchants'  Brigade.  We  call  them  "  mackerels." 
They  are  a  disgrace  to  the  merchants  of  the  metropolis, 
for  they  seem  to  be  the  refuse  of  Five  Points.  Many  of 
them  are  not  fifteen  years  old.  They  are  wretchedly 
clothed  and  fed,  and  under  the  charge  of  a  sergeant-ma 
jor,  who  knows  no  more  about  governing  than  a  Hot 
tentot  about  preaching.  They  are  now  under  Colonel 
Bartlett's  care.  Reckless  and  abused,  punishment  is 
their  general  rule.  If  these  are  a  specimen  of  New  York 
soldiers,  no  wonder  that  the  New  Yorkers  looked  upon 


96  LIFT:  WITH  TMI:  FORTY-NINTH 

?f.*  as  prodigies  of  strength,  neatness  and  propriety.  Go 
into  their  yard,  ami  you  will  see  the  "mackerels"  stand 
ing  on  barrels,  or  with  barrels  on  their  heads,  or  lugging 
about  a  ball  and  chain,  or  bucked.  Say  you,  what  is 
"bucking?"  The  hands  are  tied  together  in  front  of  the 
knees,  beneath  which  a  stick  is  put,  resting  on  the  inside 
of  the  elbows,  thus  cramping  the  poor  victim,  so  that  he 
has  the  sharpest  angle  imaginable  to  sit  on,  and  if  he  does 
not  sit  still,  over  he  rolls  as  helpless  as  a  log.  It  may  not 
be  very  painful,  but  it  is  certainly  unpleasant,  degrading, 
and  wondrously  amusing  to — spectators.  S.  H.  Rossiter, 
of  Company  B,  was  corporal  of  the  guard  over  the  mack 
erels.  He  is  a  Christian  gentleman,  educated  and  refined, 
than  whom  no  cause  or  country  ever  boasted  a  purer  sol 
dier.  He  was  ordered  to  a  buck"  them.  Half  amused, 
half  indignant,  he  hesitated  ;  then  went  to  his  captain  and 
asked  him  if  it  was  his  duty  to  do  that.  On  being  told 
that  it  was,  he  calmly  did  the  disagreeable  work.  There 
was  the  true  Puritan  soldier.  "  Though  duty  be  ever  so 
unpleasant,  so  apparently  revolting,  I'll  doit."  I  watched 
him,  and  felt  assured  t/t<  r<  was  a  man  who  would  never 
flinch,  no  matter  how  fierce  the  conflict.  We  have  many 
such.  O  sacred  indeed  should  be  that  cause  claiming  the 
sacrifice  of  such  lives. 

The  cause  is  sacred  indeed,  worthy  of  myriad  of  heca- 
toinbs  of  the  best  and  purest.  We  hoped  so  always  ;  we 
kmno  it  now.  The  Proclamation  of  Emancipation,  dated 
January  1st,  1863,  swreeps  from  our  minds  all  doubts. 
The  country  claims  our  all.  We  offer  it  freely.  Lincoln 
was  not  unfaithful.  The  words  have  gone  forth  to  be 
sounded  in  every  slave  cabin  through  the  South.  "I, 
Abraham  Lincoln,  solemnly  declare  near  three  millions 
of  slaves  free,  and  will  maintain  that  freedom  with  all  the 
power  of  the  government."  Grand  !  never  to  be  forgot 
ten  words !  words  that  will  grow  grander  through  all 
the  ages ;  words  that  will  lift  up  the  name  of  Abraham 
Lincoln  above  common  names ;  aye,  above  the  name  of 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLTHSTTEEES.  97 

Washington.  Lincoln  has  had  more  need  of  moral  cour 
age  than  had  Washington.  When  the  latter  lived,  Free 
dom  was,  to  all,  a  sacred  word.  Lincoln's  Proclamation 
finds  it  almost  a  tabooed  word,  fit  for  fanatics,  but  hardly 
consistent  with  the  respectability  and  conservatism  of  the 
gentleman.  Washington  stood  up  for  a  liberty  that  had 
primary  reference  to  a  noble,  white  Anglo-Saxon  race ; 
Lincoln  links  his  name  with  the  choicest  earthly  hopes  of 
the  degraded  blacks.  An  already  prepared  nation  vindi 
cated  Washington.  Lincoln's  freedom  finds  degenerate 
sons  of  liberty-loving  sires  ready  to  crush  it  under  their 
scorn.  Brave  words !  brave  President !  In  the  White 
House  he  holds  the  same  views  that  he  rang  out  on  the 
prairies  of  the  west.  Among  other  things,  for  which  I 
devoutly  thank  God,  is  Abraham  Lincoln.  I  recall  many 
of  my  words.  His  leisure  is  faster  than  my  haste ;  his 
folly  wiser  than  my  wisdom.  Like  a  child,  feeling  for  a 
father's  hand  in  the  night,  so  have  I  put  out  my  hand, 
hoping  to  lay  hold  of  something  that  would  sustain  me. 
I  find  that  hand  inclosed  in  the  warm  grasp  of  the  Presi 
dent  ;  his  kind  eyes  are  upon  me,  and  he  says,  "  I  send 
you  forth  to  do  battle  for  God  and  Freedom — Go  !"  and  I 
go,  blessing  God  that  I  have  strength  to  go  ;  not  count 
ing  my  life  dear  unto  myself,  that  I  may  do  something, 
however  little,  to  bring  permanent  victory  to  the  banner 
of  Liberty.  Now,  I  can  imagine  a  man  going  into  the 
valley  of  hell,  when  earth  and  air  are  crowded  with  death- 
dealing  missiles,  with  a  sweeter,  wilder  joy  than  into  the 
marriage  chamber.  Wedded  to  death  for  Freedom's 
sake,  clasping  Liberty  in  a  dying  embrace,  breathing  out 
his  life  on  her  lips,  shouting : 

"  "Whether  on  the  gallows  high, 

Or  in  the  battle's  van, 
The  noblest  place  for  man  to  die, 
Is  where  he  dies  for  man." 

I  thank  God  I  live ;  I  see  the  sun  of  Freedom  rising 
5 


98  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTII 

full-orbed  ;  and  as  it  flashes  on  the  old  flag,  the  dear  old 
flag,  stripes  seem  all  hidden  with  stars  that  reflect  the 
glory  of  God.  The  jubilant  hours  of  April,  1861,  have  re 
turned,  save  tha*t  their  animating  hopes  are  now  fruition. 
If  it  were  necessary  to  clamber  up  to  the  height  of  this 
day,  that  the  Peninsula  should  grow  rank  with  northern 
blood,  I  hail  the  martyred  dead  as  having  gloriously  died. 
I  can  now  unreservedly  give  myself,  all  of  myself,  body, 
brains,  heart,  to  my  country.  Her  cause  is  now  God's 
cause.  Humanity  is  on  our  side.  What  though  that 
Proclamation  is  to  be  indorsed  with  the  blood  of  tens  of 
thousands ! 

"  Life  is  thought,  not  breaths ;  deeds,  not  years  ; 
And  he  lives  longest  who  best  fulfils  life's  great  ends." 

"  It  is  not  all  of  life  to  live."  In  one  single  hour,  in 
some  forlorn  hope,  a  man  may  throw  his  life  against  a 
giant  wrong,  and  in  that  hour  win  for  truth  high  vantage 
ground,  and  do  more  for  the  best  interests  of  the  race 
than  by  a  whole  century  of  peaceful  existence. 

The  words  have  gone  forth.  To  all,  our  Flag  now 
means  Freedom.  Those  words  can  never  be  recalled. 
The  die  is  cast.  We  recognize  that  our  nation's  life  is  to 
be  saved  by  justice  and  righteousness.  Intervention  dies 
as  those  truly  American  words  fall  on  the  hearts  of 
Europe's  millions.  There  is  no  despot,  however  power 
ful,  however  much  he  may  desire  the  abandonment  of  our 
principles,  and  the  death  of  our  institutions,  but  knows 
that  any  crusade  against  American  Liberty,  will  be  at  the 
peril  of  his  crown  and  life.  If  never  before,  Christendom 
will  read  "  equal  rights  for  all"  on  our  flag.  Reading  it, 
their  expanding  souls  will  loosen  their  shackles,  and  our 
land  will  hasten  to  fulfil  its  mission ;  the  civil  and  reli 
gious  enfranchisement  of  the  world. 

Ere  long,  men  made  free  by  this  Proclamation  will 
have  the  privilege  of  fighting  to  sustain  it.  Six  months 
will  not  roll  away  before  we  have  many  a  corps  de  Af- 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  99 

rique.  Let  them  come ;  with  their  own  red  right-hands  let 
them  come  out  for  themselves,  honor,  freedom,  and  na 
tionality.  Radicals  and  conservatives  may  struggle  on. 
The  nation's  heart  can  now  rest.  Under  God,  our  future 
is  safe.  .ZVb'to,  we  will  have  victories  indeed,  as  well  as 
in  name.  Mu'rfreesboro  strikes  the  key-note  of  the  war. 
The  pride  of  the  South  then  went  down  before  the  power 
of  the  Free  West.  Dark  hands  will  see  to  it  that  that 
pride  shall  no  more  vaunt  itself  against  the  "  flag  of  the 
free."  Rivers  of  blood  are  yet  to  be  shed,  but  looking 
into  the  future  over  countless  graves,  I  forget  present 
sorrow,  and  exultingly  press  on,  crying,  "  This  war  pays, 
this  war  pays."  As  nothing  but  some  unforeseen  provi 
dence  shall  confine  me  to  my  safe  position  in  the  quarter 
master's  department,  when  comes  the  call  to  arms ;  hav 
ing  fully  resolved  to  share  all  dangers  as  well  as  glory; 
and  so  knowing  that  I  may  never  again  visit  home  and 
loved  ones;  yet,  I  say,  "This  war  pays!  The  victory, 
now  sure  to  come,  will  be  worth  vastly  more  than  all  it 
will  cost !''  We  are  recovering  our  Union,  completing 
our  liberty.  We  are  obtaining  security  that  the  precious 
blood  of  our  slain  shall  not  have  been  shed  in  vain. 

I  am  sometimes  awed  as  I  recognize  the  wonderful 
dealings  of  God  with  this  nation.  Suppose  Breckinridge 
had  been  elected  President  in  1860,  what  would  have 
been  our  condition? — or  Douglas?  Secession  and  war 
would  have  followed,  and  as  death  had  already  been  fas 
tened  upon  him,  Johnson,  of  Georgia,  now  in  the  rebel 
service,  would  be  our  pilot.  Had  the  war  commenced 
ten  years  sooner,  how  illy  we  would  have  been  prepared 
for  it,  materially  and  morally.  Says  the  eloquent  Bishop 
Simpson,  "  God  has  been  preparing  us  for  the  conflict 
during  many  years.  He  has  raised  up  among  us  the  genius 
of  invention.  The  railway  has  been  laid  down,  the  harbors 
of  the  ocean  crowded,  the  sickle  displaced  by  machinery, 
in  order  that  men  might  be  spared  to  fight  in  this  war. 
So,  too,  when  perfidious  England  sent  out  her  war  ships 


100  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-XT VTI! 

to  prey  on  our  commerce,  the  American  people  were 
prepared  to  send  them  bread.  The  sewing  machine  had 
been  rendered  subservient  in  like  manner  to  the  wants  of 
the  soldier,  and  God  sent  the  invention  in  readiness  for 
the  struggle.  The  conversion  of  the  soldiers  was  pre 
pared  for  too  by  that  wonderful  outpouring  of  prayer 
wliich  visited  the  Christian  world  a  year  or  two  since. 
God  was  on  our  side,  and  would  yet  give  us  the  generals 
and  ability  to  close  up  the  war." 

The  holidays  are  over,  and  though  we  missed  the  lux 
uries  and  friends  of  home,  we  kept  up  some  of  the  festiv 
ities  of  the  season.  The  ladies  of  Sternsville  sent  Co. 
A,  freight  paid,  a  box  of  comforts  and  luxuries,  weighing 
six  hundred  pounds.  Co.  E  was  also  generously  remem 
bered.  Pontoosuc  and  Hancock  did  not  forget  their  sol 
diers.  Many  individuals  received  tokens  of  home  affec 
tion,  so  we  became  quite  familiar  with  the  sight  of  ex 
press-wagons.  Mr.  Brewster  supplied  the  members  of 
his  department  with  a  Christmas  dinner,  equal  to  what 
we  were  wont  to  have  at  that  season  at  home.  Captain 
Garlick  and  Lieutenant  Dresser  treated  their  respective 
companies  ;  and  on  the  afternoon  of  Xew  Year's  Day, 
Colonel  Sumner  drew  up  the  regiment  in  line,  and  amid 
the  cheers  of  the  men,  distributed  a  liberal  supply  of 
crackers,  cheese,  apples,  and  ale,  the  gift  of  Mrs.  J.  R. 
More  wood,  of  Pittsfield,  who  also  favored  us  at  Christ 
mas  with  a  liberal  supply  of  cake.  And  so  passed  pleas 
antly  away  our  holidays  at  camp. 

We  will  not  carry  all  who  were  "  mustered  in"  with  us 
to  Dixie.  The  surgeon  has  been  weeding  out  the  incompe 
tent.  How  some  passed  the  first  surgeon's  examination 
is  a  mystery.  With  many  of  the  discharged,  the  spirit 
may  have  been  willing,  but  the  flesh  was  certainly  too 
weak.  Better  send  them  home  than  freight  our  hospi 
tals,  only  to  be  relieved  by  their  early  burials.  As  we 
are  going  to  the  most  unhealthy  part  of  the  South,  tho 
grave-yard  of  the  Southwest,  where  many  of  us  will  find 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLtTNTEEKS.  Ib'I 

graves  even  if  we  never  see  an  armed  TebpVit;  is  well v  to 
carry  no  already  superannuates  with  us.  Since  I  wrote 
you,  we  have  lost  Henry  W.  Cain  (K),  a  farmer  from 
Adams,  who  died  at  home  of  consumption,  on  the  twenty- 
second  of  December.  He  was  a  good  man,  but  his  strength 
was  not  equal  to  his  patriotism.  As  camp  exposure  has 
tened  his  death,  we  record  him  among  our  "  fallen  brave." 
Four  months  have  passed  away  and  no  pay.  This  de 
lay  works  out  real  suifering  to  soldiers'  families,  espe 
cially  in  those  States  that  do  not  provide  State  aid  to  the 
families  of  volunteers.  Bless  Old  Massachusetts  !  Her 
provident  legislation  assures  us  that  our  families  are  not 
entirely  destitute.  We  need  money,  if  for  nothing  else,  to 
buy  tobacco.  You  may  preach  anti-tobacco  with  some 
hope  of  gaining  a  few  converts  anywhere  save  in  camps. 
Give  a  man  very  many  unemployed  hours,  and  tobacco, 
if  not  a  necessity,  is  a  wonderful  solace.  The  pipe,  the 
fine  cut  makes  up  the  deficiency  in  quantity  or  quality  of 
food,  and  is  a  positive,  indescribable  luxury.  The  sutler 
trusts  each  soldier  to  goods  amounting  to  two  dollars  per 
month,  but  as  most  of  them  have  exhausted  that  credit, 
the  prospect  of  going  south  without  money  is  any  thing 
but  pleasant. 


102  LIFE   WITH    THE    FOKTY-XIXTII 


LETTER    XVI. 

LONG  ISLAND,  NBW  YORK,  January  23,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

I  sit  down  to  write  you  my  last  letter  from  this  camp, 
as  we  have  orders  to  report  on  ship-board.  Though 
anxious  to  face  the  realities  of  soldier  life,  we  leave  Sned- 
eker's  barn-yard  with  a  good  deal  of  regret.  Our  stay 
here  has,  on  the  whole,  been  pleasant  to  all.  A  great 
many  of  the  soldiers'  wives  have  visited  us  this  month, 
putting  us  in  mind  of  the  bright  days  of  Camp  Briggs. 

We  have  had  fine  quarters  here.  The  officers  of  Co. 
F,  and  Sergeant-Major  Wylie,  have  barracked  with  us, 
and  many  a  jolly,  cheery  hour  have  we  spent  together. 
Getting  the  right  side  of  the  butcher  and  baker,  we  have 
been  supplied  with  army  luxuries,  and  given  to  hospital 
ity,  have  often  feted  officers  and  their  ladies.  We  will 
not  soon  forget  the  old  barn-yard,  with  its  festive  scenes, 
its  mock  court-martials,  and  its  joyous  associations.  In 
sundering  partnership  with  Co.  F,  we  retain  in  our  de 
partment  as  wagon-master  and  as  a  souvenir  of  those 
happy  days,  Orrin  Hulet,  one  of  those  men  whom  you 
can  always  count  on,  and  implicitly  trust ;  an  old  soldier 
and  consistent  Christian,  who  only  needs  the  absence  of 
his  employer  to  do  nearly  double  the  work  that  that  em 
ployer  would  have  required  at  his  hands. 

On  a  recent  visit  to  Pittsfield,  his  fellow-members  of 
Housatonic  Engine  Company,  presented  Captain  Lingen- 
felter  with  a  sword  and  trimmings,  through  T.  Clapp, 
Esq. 

The  high  honor  of  bearing  the  colors  falls  on  Thomas 
Bach,  sergeant  in  company  F.  He  is  a  noble  looking  fel 
low,  and  a  soldier  of  the  Florida  war.  II.  R.  Fowler, 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  103 

corporal  (D),  carrries  the  white  flag  of  Massachusetts, 
while  Corporals  T.  Biety  (A),  E.  W.  Pierce  (B),  E.  E. 
Ensign  (E),  a  college-mate  of  the  colonel,  and  an  educa 
ted  gentleman,  A.  J.  French  (F),  H.  A.  Glazier  (G),  E. 
W.  Bliss  (H),  and  T.  Carey  (K),  form  the  color  guard. 
Their  main  duty  is  to  defend  the  flag.  Proud  and  dan 
gerous  post !  Battles  have  been  lost  and  won  by  the 
"  color  guard."  You  know  not  what  an  inspiration  the 
"  colors"  bear  with  them.  Let  them  be  but  advanced,  and 
a  shrinking  regiment  grows  proud  and  strong.  Invoca 
tions  to  them,  though  trite,  will  always  find  an  answering 
response  in  fhe  hearts  of  true  soldiers.  Misses  A.  and 
S.  Learned,  of  Pittsfield,  presented  us  with  two  small  but 
handsome  silk  flags,  on  which  are  marked  name  of  regi 
ment.  E.  Ende  and  J.  Bryce  (A)  bear  these  flags,  and 
are  called  markers.  D.  Dalzell  (K)  remains  behind  as 
orderly  to  General  Wool.  T.  M.  Judd  (F),  and  A.  A. 
Loop  (D),  are  detached  as  clerks  at  head-quarters,  posi 
tions,  the  importance  of  which  cannot  be  estimated  mere 
ly  by  the  extra  pay  of  forty  cents  per  day.  There  are  no 
pleasanter  posts  in  the  army.  They  can  live  like  gentle 
men,  and  have  access  to  many  important  secrets.  They 
are  both  well  worthy  of  their  promotion.  H.  D.  Adams 
(E)  is  ward-master ;  we  all  say,  "  the  right  man  in  the 
right  place."  E.  W.  Steadman  (F),  noted  for  his  profi 
ciency  in  that  part  of  drumming  called  "  rolling,"  is  now 
Drum-major. 

We  have  been  very  busy  lately  in  getting  our  writing 
done  up.  You  have  no  idea  what  a  vast  amount  of  writ 
ing  is  necessary  to  keep  a  regiment  in  proper  order.  The 
fifth  sergeant  of  each  company  acts  as  captain's  clerk,  and 
you  may  depend  on  it  his  oifice  is  no  sinecure.  .  Most 
of  them  are  superior  business  men,  who  could  command 
large  salaries  at  home,  yet,  for  seventeen  dollars  per 
month,  they  leave  all  at  duty's  call. 

Who  will  look  after  deserters  in  New  York  since 
the  provost  guards  of  the  Forty-ninth  have  been  ordered 


104  LIFE   WITTI   THE   FORTY-NrNTII 

to  join  their  regiment  ?  Our  boys  gained  for  their  regi 
ment  an  enviable  name  while  discharging  their  delicate 
and  often  dangerous  duties.  From  ten  to  two  at  night 
they  would  search  grog  shops,  dance  houses,  and  dens  of 
prostitution  for  deserters.  While  thus  employed,  they 
arrested  and  returned  to  their  regiments  twelve  hundred. 
Sergeant  E.  H.  Murray,  of  Company  D,  won  for  himself 
much  credit  for  prudence  and  courage  while  in  command 
of  his  provost  squad  of  twenty-two  men.  Several  times 
his  life  was  in  almost  as  great  peril  as  it  would  be  in 
battle,  but  unflinchingly  he  did  his  work.  Men  that  can 
be  bribed  with  liquor  or  seduced  by  dissolute  women, 
would  make  but  poor  provost  guards.  Few  things  pro 
claim  more  loudly  the  praise  and  merit  of  our  regiment 
than  General  WooPs  persistent  effort  to  keep  us  in  the 
provost  work.  Strange  hiding  places  deserters  some 
times  found.  On  more  than  one  occasion  Sergeant  Mur 
ray  found  a  frail  sister  standing  in  the  corner  of  a  room  to 
receive  him  with  greater  respect,  but,  as  a  married  man, 
and  so  supposed  to  be  a  judge  of  crinoline,  he  could  not 
but  fancy  she  was  possessed  of  a  wonderful  amplitude. 
Perchance  desirous  of  the  honor  of  introducing  a  new 
fashion  to  the  consideration  of  his  lady  friends  on  his  re 
turn  to  Berkshire,  he  ventured  to  make  some  observa 
tions,  and  so  tried  to  view  the  marvel  on  all  sides,  when, 
to  his  surprise  he  discovered  that  the  lady  wore  high-top 
boots,  and  suspicious  pantaletts.  Curiosity  being  stronger 
than  gallantry,  he  led  the  blushing  damsel  aside,  and  lo  ! 
the  crinoline  was  delivered  of  a  full-grown  man — a  deser 
ter.  What  will  not  woman  do  when  she  loves  "not 
wisely,  but  too  well  ?" 

Adieu  to  New  York,  to  the  North. 

On  leaving,  I  send  you 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  105 


WAR    SONG, 

WBITTEN    FOR    THE    FORTY-NINTH    REGIMENT    MASSACHUSETTS 
VOLUNTEERS. 

AIR. — "  Columbia,  the  Gem  of  the  Ocean." 

Old  Berkshire,  from  hill  and  from  valley, 

Her  pride  and  her  glory  sends  forth ; 
Her  brave  sons  unitedly  rally, 

"With  the  legions  that  pour  from  the  North, 
"With  firm  will  and  manly  endeavor, 

The  Star-spangled  Flag  to  uphold  ; 
Oh  give  us  old  Berkshire  for  ever, 

And  her  own  FORTY-NINTH,  brave  and  bold  ! 

(Chorus)  And  her  own  Forty-Ninth,  brave  and  bold, 
And  her  own  Forty-Ninth,  brave  and  bold, 
Oh  give  us  old  Berkshire  for  ever, 
And  her  own  Forty-Ninth,  brave  and  bold. 

"We  leave  home  and  friends  far  behind  us, 

And  the  scenes  we  have  cherished  so  dear, 
The  ties  that  no  longer  must  bind  us, 

We  sunder  them  all  with  a  tear. 
Ourselves  from  our  kindred  we  sever, 

Till  war  and  its  perils  are  past ; 
For  the  Flag  of  our  Union  for  ever, 

We  swear  to  defend  to  the  last  I 

(Chorus)  We  swear  to  defend  to  the  last,  &c. 

By  our  Colonel,  well  skilled  in  commanding, 

Into  battle  we  wait  to  be  led ; 
On  a  single  sound  leg  he  is  standing, 

But  he's  sound  in  his  heart  and  his  head. 
At  his  bidding  we're  going  to  follow, 

O'er  the  fields  of  the  South  far  awa', 
And  we'll  vanquish  the  rebels  all  hollow, 

Three  cheers  for  our  Colonel  I  Hurra  I 
(Chorus)  Three  cheers,  &c. 

Our  Lieutenant-Colonel  and  Major — 

We  know  they  are  faithful  and  true  ; 
And  victory's  certain  presager, 

We  hail  in  their  ardor  to  do. 
5* 


106  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

At  their  load,  in  right  soldierly  manner, 

The  base  rebel  foe  we'll  pursue ; 
And  we'll  tear  down  the  secession  banner, 

And  fling  out  the  red,  white  and  blue  I 
(Chorus)  And  fling  out,  &c. 

Our  Captains  are  prompt  to  their  duty, 

Lieutenants  alert  to  each  call ; 
Our  Staff  boasts  of  valor  and  beauty, 

And  in  fact,  we  are  fine  fellows  all. 
In  Pittsfield,  where  we  came  together, 

In  Worcester's  generous  town ; 
And  even  in  Long  Island  weather, 

The  old  FORTY-NINTH  takes  'em  down  ! 
(Chorus)  The  old  Forty-Ninth,  &c. 

Farewell  to  the  homes  we  are  leaving ; 

Farewell  to  the  friends  whom  we  know ; 
Farewell  to  the  lasses  now  grieving ; 

We'll  think  of  them  all  as  we  go. 
For  all  these  our  bosoms  are  yearning, 

While  duty  is  beck'uiug  afar ; 
And  we'll  give,  till  God  speeds  our  returning, 
Three  cheers  for  "  sweet  home ;"  Ilip  !  Hurra  ! 
(Chorus)  Three  cheers  for  sweet  home ;  Hip  I  Hurra ! 
Three  cheers  £or  sweet  homo  ;  Hip  1  Hurra ! 
And  we'll  give,  till  God  speeds  our  returning, 
Three  cheers  for  sweet  home  ;  Hip  1  Hurra ! 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  107 


LETTER    XVII. 

;WICK,  before 
February  7,  1863. 


STEAMSHIP  NEW  BRUNSWICK,  before  New  Orleans,  ) 


MY  DEAR  L. : 

As  I  may  have  an  opportunity  to  mail  you  a  letter  soon, 
I  will  get  one  in  readiness.  On  Friday,  the  23d  ult., 
the  regiment  embarked.  By  some  mismanagement  the 
sick  who  were  to  go  with  us,  spent  the  night  at  Brooklyn 
in  a  cold  car.  We  leave  some  of  our  number  to  recruit 
in  the  New  York  hospitals  before  going  South.  Our 
ocean  camp,  the  steamship  Illinois,  was  comfortable,  be 
ing  a  staunch  California  steamer,  but  we  were  unduly 
crowded,  having  on  board,  our  own  regiment,  some  com 
panies  of  the  Twenty-first  Maine,  and  representatives  of 
several  other  regiments,  in  all  thirteen  hundred  men.  The 
berths  were  so  arranged  as  to  be  well  ventilated. 

The  dock  where  our  good  ship  lay  presented  a  busy 
scene.  Very  many  were  there  to  bid  us  farewell.  Fa 
thers,  mothers,  wives,  and  scores  of  Massachusetts  men 
made  up  the  crowd.  Sad  hearts  were  hid  by  cheerful 
faces,  but  alas,  the  sigh  followed  the  smile.  Men  afraid 
of  playing  the  woman,  assumed  an  unnatural  levity,  and 
friends  parted  as  if  they  were  sure  to  meet  with  the  re 
turning  morn.  The  colonel's  parents  were  there.  Pride 
in  him  could  not  make  them  forget  that  dire  day  before 
Yorktown.  Might  not  the  future,  though  still  more  glo 
rious,  be  yet  more  dire  ?  Who  could  tell  ?  Who  but 
the  great  Searcher  of  hearts  knew  the  struggles  of  that 
hour?  All  the  " brave  go  not  to  the  field."  There  is 
more  than  poetry  in  these  lines  : 


108  LIFE   WITH   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

THE  BRAVE  AT   HOME. 

BY   T.  BUCHANAN   READ. 

The  maid  who  binds  the  warrior's  sash, 
With  smile  that  well  her  pain  dissembles, 
The  while  beneath  her  drooping  lash, 
One  starry  tear-drop  hangs  and  trembles, 
Though  Ileaven  alone  records  the  tear, 
And  fame  shall  never  know  her  story : 
Her  heart  has  shed  a  drop  as  dear 
As  ever  dewed  the  field  of  glory. 

The  wife  who  grinds  her  husband's  sword, 
'Mid  little  ones  who  weep  and  wonder, 
And  bravely  speaks  the  cheering  word, 
What  though -her  heart  be  rent  asunder — 
Doomed  nightly  in  her  dreams  to  hear 
The  bolts  of  war  around  him  rattle, 
Hath  shed  as  sacred  blood  as  e'er 
"Was  poured  upon  the  plain  of  battle. 

The  mother  who  conceals  Irer  grief. 
While  to  her  breast  her  son  she  presses 
Then  breathes  a  few  bravo  words  and  brief, 
Kissing  the  patriot  now  she  blesses, 
With  no  one  but  her  secret  God 
To  know  the  pain  that  weighs  upon  her, 
Sheds  holy  blood  as  e'er  the  sod 
Received  in  Freedom's  field  of  honor. 

I  need  not  dwell  on  the  parting  scene.  'Tis  too  fresh, 
too  much  a  matter  of  vivid  feeling  for  expression.  Some 
kind  friends  cheered  our  hearts  and  the  hearts  of  the  ped 
dlers,  by  scattering  around  cigars,  apples  and  oranges. 
What  cared  we  for  those  favors  ?  Little,  but  much,  very 
much  for  them  as  tender  expressions  of  woman's  appre 
ciation  of  our  sacrifices.  Those  earnest-eyed  women  of 
the  dear  old  commonwealth  looked  on  us  as  their  de 
fenders. 

The  hours  passed  on,  when  about  noon  General  An 
drew  and  staff  arrived,  and  the  increased  bustle  beto 
kened  that  the  time  of  our  departure  was  at  hand.  Gen 
eral  Andrew's  lirst  act  was  to  eject  our  sutler  and  his 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  109 

stores  from  the  sliip.  Liking  Mr.  Springstein  ns  TTT^  do, 
and  seeing  no  necessity  for  such  a  step,  our  introduction 
to  the  brigadier  was  not  calculated  to  prepossess  us  in 
his  favor. 

At  noon  of  Jan.  24th,  we  swung  loose  from  the  wharf, 
amid  responsive  cheers,  and  very  soon  were  hidden  from 
the  last  lingering  look  of  those  who  mournfully  sang : 

"  Now  blow,  gentle  gales,  o'er  the  dark  blue  sea, 

Bid  the  storm-king  stay  his  hand, 
And  bring  my  soldier  back  to  me, 

To  his  own  dear  native  land." 

We  had  two  brigadiers  on  board  with  their  respec 
tive  staffs.  General  Andrew  has  seen  service,  having 
been  with  Banks  in  upper  Virginia,  where  he  was  severe 
ly  wounded.  General  Dwight  is  a  little  pompous,  kid- 
gloved  man,  but  as  brave  as  a  lion.  He  is  one  of  five 
brothers  in  the  army,  and  served  with  honor  and  wounds 
on  the  Peninsula.  The  members  of  their  staffs  were  gen 
erally  very  young,  boyish  and  exclusive,  if  I  shoul<J  say 
puppyisli,  most  of  the  boys  would  think  I  had  hit  the 
nail  on  the  head  for  once.  I  never  saw  such  a  snobbish 
set.  Those,  whose  sensitiveness  had  been  wounded  by 
submission  to  superiors,  were  comforted.  Before  the 
awful  dignity  of  staff  officers,  a  captain  or  a  lieutenant 
was  nothing,  and  noticed  by  them  less  than  we  are  noticed 
by  our  officers.  We  never  knew  how  to  appreciate  our 
officers  before..  There  is  nothing  snobbish  about  them- 
In  my  verdancy,  I  expected  that  the  various  officers 
would  be  mutually  introduced,  and  that  there  would  be 
a  pleasant  fraternization,  a  union  of  hearts  that  would 
produce  union  and  enthusiasm  in  the  field.  But  not  a 
bit  of  it.  Those  little  dandy  lieutenants  on  the  staffs, 
strutted  about  in  their  fine  clothes  like  peacocks,  and  scarce 
ly  noticed  even  our  colonel,  while  hardly  a  word  passed 
between  them  and  the  inferior  officers.  They  chilled  the 
air,  and  one  was  sorely  tempted  to  accidentally  (?)  trip 
them  up  as  they  passed  along.  I  suppose  they  have  Bos- 


1  1  )  LIFE    TVITII   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

ton  pluck,  and  that  is  all  that  you  can  say  in  their  favor. 
These  men  are  fools.  Don't  they  know  that  the  aversion 
they  awaken  in  us  will  weaken  them  on  the  day  of  bat 
tle '/  They  have  to  lead  where  personal  influence  and 
respect  may  turn  the  scale  of  victory.  For  them,  we  feel 
nothing  of  that  kind.  Colonel  Bartlett  could  do  more 
with  one  of  our  companies,  than  these  exclusives  with 
the  whole  regiment.  Well,  let  them  pass  ;  they -may  re 
deem  themselves,  and  in  gazing  on  their  valor,  we  will 
forget  their  follies. 

Companies  A  and  E  were  down  in  lower  part  of  the 
hold,  any  thing  but  comfortably  situated.  There  were  three 
.tiers  (or  stories)  of  bunks  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
men.  The  Maine  boys,  a  lousy,  dirty  set,  took  it  rough 
and  tumble  on  deck.  We  will  hail  them  as  comrades  in 
the  day  of  battle,  for  the  brimstone  and  sulphur  of  war 
may  purify  them.  Just  now,  we  feel  to  them  as  exclu 
sive  as  if  we  were  staff  officers.  There  were  two  cabins, 
the  lower  of  which  was  occupied  by  generals,  colonels,  ma 
jors  'and  captains,  and  the  upper  by  lieutenants  and  us 
small  fry.  The  officers  found  board  at  the  hands  of  the 
steward  for  a  dollar  and  fifty  cents  per  day,  a  price  at 
which  the  steward  did  not  get  poor,  considering  that 
most  of  his  guests  wreie  more  than  satisfied  by  the  mere 
smelling  of  food.  The  well  ones  do  say  that  it  required 
considerable  ingenuity  to  get  enough  to  satisfy  their  ap 
petites. 

The  regiment  fared  badly.  For  a  day  or  two,  we  had 
fresh  beef,  but  that  wras  soon  consumed,  and  we  were 
confined  to  "  salt  horse."  Barrels  thereof,  already  cooked, 
stood  near  the  cook-house,  but  were  not  much  patron 
ized.  We  had  no  water  save  sea-water  distilled  by  being 
used  in  the  boilers,  and  of  that  a  very  insufficient  sup 
ply.  You  can  judge  then,  why  salt  beef  went  a  begging. 
The  horses  of  our  officers  were  not  taken  on  board,  but 
we  were  troubled  with  fifteen  staff  horses  who  used  more 
of  the  meagre  supply  of  water  than  we  liked.  Consumed 


MASSACHUSETTS  VOLUNTEERS.  Ill 

with  thirst,  you  can  imagine  how  happy  we  felt  when  we 
heard  one  of  the  exclusives  say,  "  I  don't  care  a  — 
whether  the  men  get  water  or  not,  but  my  horse  shall 
have  it."  O  what  an  inexpressible  joy  to  follow  such 
men  into  battle  !  Toward  the  latter  part  of  the  trip  we 
got  short  of  coal,  which  lessened  the  quantity  of  steam, 
and  also  our  supply  of  drinking  water.  Fed  on  salt  food, 
deprived  of  coffee,  put  on  half  rations  of  water,  it  was  a 
wonder  that  we  did  not  mutiny  and  push  the  thirsty  hor 
ses  into  the  ocean.  They  had  no  right  to  crowd  so  many 
on  board.  To  cook  for  thirteen  hundred  men  we  had 
two  steam-boilers  and  a  space  of  four  by  five  feet.  We 
cooked  there,  the  Maine  boys  did  their  cooking  there,  as 
did  also  the  detached  men  of  some  other  regiments. 
Cooking  day  and  night  would  not  prepare  a  sufficiency 
of  food.  All  the  rations  due  could  be  had,  but  they  could 
no't  be  prepared.  Coffee  is  the  soldiers  staff  of  life,  and 
when  for  days,  chilly  days  too,  scarcity  of  water  prevent 
ed  us  having  any  coffee,  we  were  pretty  well  down  in 
the  mouth.  Pretty  good  fellows  we  are,  or  we  would 
have  stormed  the  cook-house  and  compelled  officers  and 
horses  to  a  pro  rata  distribution  of  water.  Provoking 
enough  it  was  to  see  hot  steaks  and  biscuits  and  pies  go 
to  the  cabin  tables,  but  that  we  were  willing  to  bear,  for 
it  was  in  the  programme,  but  "  no  coffee  "  was  something 
we  never  imagined.  Give  a  cup  of  coffee  and  then  a  lit 
tle  tobacco,  and  a  soldier  will  be  pretty  reasonable. 

Of  course  we  have  nearly  all  been  sea-sick.  Sea-sick 
ness  never  kills,  but  it  makes  many  wish  it  would.  It  is 
all  I  ever  dreamed  or  thought  or  feared  of  the  nasty. 
Provoke  a  sea-sick  man,  and  he  would  almost  strike  his 
mother,  if  he  had  strength  enough.  Show  me  a  man 
who  is  gentlemanly  while  thus  tormented,  and  I  will  show 
you  the  highest  type  of  the  genus  homo.  A  sea-sick  man 
don't  swear  ;  he  is  beyond  that,  literally  he  don't  care  a 

for  any  thing.     Old  Neptune  is  a  nasty,  miserable 

tyrant  and  cheat.     When  you  are  first  taken,  you  vomit 


112  I.II  r.    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

freely  and  think  you  are  all  right,  and  wonder  why  people 
make  so  much  fuss  about  a  little  nausea,  but  by  and  by, 
when  you  have  given  the  old  sea-dog  all  your  food,  and 
think  you  have  a  receipt  in  full,  the  heaving  of  the  ship 
stirs  up  bile  and  gall  too,  and  you  begin — to  vomit  ?  No 
you  don't — you  wish  you  could ;  you  would  give  one  of 
your  babies  for  a  good  vomiting  spell — but  you  begin  to 
retch.  Do  you  know  the  meaning  of  that  word  ?  Go  to 
sea  in  foul  weather,  and  we  had  scarcely  any  thing  else, 
and  you  will  loathingly  remember  its  meaning  all  your 
life.  Lie  down  on  the  flat  of  your  back  and  you  are  then 
only  less  than  deathly  sick,  but  once  roll  over  and  away 
you  start,  perchance  at  night,  tripping  over  sleepers 
(how  can  they,  how  dare  they  sleep  ?)  for  the  side  of  the 
ship.  Now,  certainly  you  can  vomit — yes,  a  little  froth, 
and  nothing  else.  Retching  there  for  an  hour  and  no  re 
lief,  you  go  back  to  your  bunk  and  lie  on  your  back  till 
your  bones  ache,  and  you  must  move,  and  moving,  you 
must  get  up  and  run,  for  certainly  now  you  will  find  the 
relief  which  can  alone  make  life  endurable.  Pale,  blue- 
gilled,  on  you  go,  the  boys  see  you,  "  Hallo  !  Johns,  how 
are  you  ?  there  he  goes  !"  and  you  hang  over  the  railing 
for  an  hour,  looking  more  like  a  sick  calf  than  any  thing 
else,  till  your  legs  ache  and  you  are  wet  with  the  cold 
spray,  and  then  down  you  get  on  your  haunches.  The 
old  ship  makes  a  plunge,  and  over  you  go  on  the  deck  in 
a  pool  of  filth  to  which  the  foulest  spittoon  is  absolute 
sweetness  and  cleanness.  Some  fellow,  not  man  enough 
to  share  your  sickness,  comes  along,  "  Well,  Johns,  how 
are  you  this  morning?"  You  look  up  and  see  hi  the  tor 
menting  eyes,  a  twinkle,  saying,  "  What  a  fool  you  are  to 
give  up  to  it."  You  don't  knock  him  down,  for  you  have 
not  strength  or  energy  enough  for  that ;  you  don't  swear 
at  him,  for  that  requires  an  effort,  and,  as  you  are  quite 
sure  you  will  die  if  not  relieved  soon,  your  conscience 
protests  against  misusing  your  waning  power  in  that 
way ;  but  you  do  inwardly  pray  that  he  may  soon  be  as 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  113 

sick  as  yourself,  and  malevolence  can  no  farther  go.  Some 
one  tells  you  that  lemon  juice  will  work  a  speedy  cure. 
With  awakened  hope  you  stagger  after  a  lemon.  Now, 
you  see  nearly  every  man  sucking  at  one,  and  you  get  yours 
at  last.  You  squeeze  it,  and  as  the  acid  descends,  you 
feel  something  rising,  you  choke  it  down,  determined  to 
give"  the  lemon  a  fair  chance,  but  all  in  vain,  so  you  pitch 
it  in  the  sea,  and  once  more  hang  over  the  dirty  slippery 
rail.  u  Johns,  poor  fellow,  I  pity  you ;  go  and  drink 
some  sea-water  and  you  will  find  relief."  "  That's  so," 
and  with  a  queer  sort  of  thanks,  you  rush  to  the  pump, 
crowd  your  way  in  and  gulp  down  the  worse  than  castor 
oil.  Sure  enough,  you  vomit  freely,  hurrah  ! — Eugh !  it 
is  only  the  sea-water  you  throw  up,  and  then  you  are 
sicker  than  ever.  Reckless,  you  get  down  on  your  back 
again,  lie  there  till  necessity  urges  you  up,  and  then  some 
one  tells  you  that  you  can  soon  overcome  it  by  resolutely 
walking.  Well,  you  try  it.  The  plaguy  old  ship  is 
drunk,  why  can't  it  be  still  ?  Saying  nothing,  holding 
hard  your  breath,  up  and  down  you  stagger  just  as  long 
as  your  legs  will  carry  you,  and  then  stop,  and  then — 
retch  and  retch  your  life  away.  Perchance  there  is  a 
calm,  the  craft  is  sober  again,  and  you  begin  to  think 
you  may  possibly  see  something  worth  living  for.  True, 
your  head  is  a  vast  bee-hive,  but  once  more  you  crave 
food.  O  luxury  of  luxuries  then,  a  boiled  potato  and  a 
littlp  salt !  If  the  calm  continues,  coffee  is  the  nectar  of 
the  gods,  but  hard-tack  and  salt-horse,  scarcely  their  am 
brosia.  Now,  you  think  the  time  may  come  in  the  far 
distant  future,  when  you  can  hear,  without  shuddering, 
your  sweetheart  or  wife  sing  "  A  life  on  the  ocean  wave, 
a  home  on  the  rolling  deep."  You  look  at  the  big  ditch, 
and  dimly  perceive  some  beauty  and  grandeur,  and  have 
enlarged  views  of  the  Infinite,  and  awful  conceptions  of 
Eternity,  and  see  the  sun  rise  and  set  in  mid  ocean  with 
awe  and  solemnity,  but  at  the  same  time,  have  an  idea 
that  that  bank  of  clouds  in  the  west  is  something  more 


114  LIFE    WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

than  the  hangings  of  the  sea-god's  regal  couch.  More 
than  half  convinced  that  the  dwellers  on  the  ocean  are 
not  all  fools,  and  that  Neptune  has  some  royal  and  re 
deeming  qualities,  you  go  to  your  sound  sleep.  Ere  morn 
ing,  you  hear  great  giant  thunderings  at  the  sides  of 
your  vessel,  and  find  your  bed  on  rockers,  and  wake 
up  in  the  darkness,  to  discover  that  you  have  been  a  fool 
to  trust  in  the  deceptive  promises  of  monarchs.  Then  all 
your  bitter  experience,  intensified,  is  renewed,  and  you 
have  to  go  through  with  the  after  pangs  of  the  sea-birth. 
T/ten,  you  solemnly  register  your  vows  that  once  get  out 
of  this  scrape,  neither  man  nor  devil  nor  Uncle  Sam  will 
ever  get  you  into  it  again.  "Ah  !  my  dear  fellow,  I  wish  I 
could  be  sea-sick ;  you  jvill  stand  the  Southern  climate 
so  much  better  for  this  purging."  Bah !  I  wish  he 
could  be  sea-sick,  and  as  for  Southern  climate,  I  would 
swallow  it,  malaria,  ague,  yellow  fever,  black  tongue  and 
all,  only  to  be  once  again  on  terra  firma,  no  matter  though 
it  were  a  desert  and  a  solitude. 

Well,  none  of  us  died,  though  nearly  all  were  sick.  For 
awhile  the  officers'  table  was  far  from  crowded,  and  the 
ringing  of  the  dinner-bell  awakened  no  hurry  nor  inter 
est.  Old  Xep.  was  no  respecter  of  persons.  Stars  and 
•eagles  and  straps  all  bowed  before  him  as  master.  O  ye 
dignified  ones  !  how  unstarched  you  looked  when  you  re 
linquished  your  dinners  with  so  much  more  rapidity  than 
grace,  assuming  positions,  the  most  careful  study  of  Har- 
dee  never  taught  you.  These  new  motions  first  became 
fashionable  about  in  id-afternoon  of  the  day  we  left  Ni-\v 
York.  The  freshened  air  had  invigorated  our  appetites, 
and  just  as  we  had  discussed  the  merits  of  our  rations, 
and  while  the,  to  us,  unknown  luxuries  of  the  cabin  were 
lingering  on  the  palates  of  the  officers,  and  as  they,  full 
of  food  and  of  high  hopes,  were  parading  the  quarter 
deck,  they  began  to  find  that  the  "Narrows"  was  the 
sea-monarch's  custom-house,  and  tribute  in  the  current 
coin  of  his  realm  was  demanded.  Nolens  volem,  they 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  115 

paid  it.  So  generous  was  one  of  them  that  he  gave  up, 
not  only  his  dinner,  but  his  teeth  also.  Sure  he  \vas,  at 
that  time,  he  would  never  need  teeth  again.  While  those 
who  sat  at  the  first  table  were  thus  strangely  digesting 
their  repast,  some  of  their  successors  exhibited  an  aver 
sion  to  their  food,  and  without  waiting  to  return  thanks, 
hurriedly  sprang  on  deck.  Privates  are  not  allowed  on 
the  quarter-deck,  but  there  was  plenty  of  room  for  them 
there  that  evening.  When  the  hour  comes,  that  comes 
to  nearly  all,  there  is  no  time  to  rush  up  three  flights  of 
stairs,  and  so  you  can  imagine  the  highly  scented  condi 
tion  of  the  hold.  Imagine  still  farther,  delicately  reared 
men  doing  police  duty  there  the  next  morning.  So  we 
continued ;  well,  when  the  ocean  was  calm,  and  sick, 
when  it  was  rough,  which  was  nearly  all  the  time.  As 
for  myself,  I  was  about  the  sickest  of  the  sick,  and  have 
signed  away  all  right  and  interest  in  that  treacherous 
thing  called  the  sea.  To  endure  that  for  nine  months, 
and  I  guess  I  would  say,  "  perish  my  country,  and  all  its 
hopes  forever  !"  I'll  stand  by  the  bond,  and  deliver  my 
native  land  from  all  its  enemies,  but  in  the  name  of  my 
stomach,  of  all  that  is  in  me,  or  ought  to  be  in  me,  I  pro 
test  against  fighting  an  enemy  who  never  has  the  manli 
ness  to  meet  you  face  to  face.  Well,  it  is  over,  and  as 
we  sail  up  the  Mississippi,  we  are  determined  to  open  it  be 
fore  our  time  of  service  shall  have  expired.  When  comes 
the  fierce  conflict  and  we  waver  before  the  foe,  "  Kally, 
Forty-ninth,  or  you  must  return  by  the  way  of  the  ocean" 
will  endue  us  with  a  courage  that  no  rebels  can  resist. 
The  following  lines  by  Colonel  Sumner  are  very  sugges 
tive.  He  was  there. 


EXPERIENCES  AFLOAT. 

0  gentle  muse  1  0  gracious  muse  I 

Bestow  thy  smile  on  me, 
While  I  describe  the  wondrous  sights 

I  see  upon  the  sea. 


116  LIFE   WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

Old  Ocean  is  a  "  heavy  swell," 
A  deep  old  salt,  for  that ; 

You'll  find  your  error,  if  at  first 
You  take  him  for  a  flat. 

No  rower  can  withstand  his  roar, 
For  blows  he's  ever  ready ; 

And  whoso  keeps  his  company, 
Is  apt  to  get  unsteady. 

He  brags  what  flags  wave  o'er  his  waves, 
He  boasts  his  ships  are  whalers ; 

With  gales  regales  us  just  to  show 
How  he  assails  the  sailors. 

Ah  me  I     I'm  six  days  out  from  shore, 
A  cleaned  out,  luckless  rover; 

Another  six  days'  cruise  ahead, 
And  so,  I'm  half-seas  over. 

I  feel  so  "  cabined,  cribbed,  confined," 
I  scarce  can  draw  my  breath  ; 

There's  no  more  comfort  in  my  berth, 
Than  if  it  were  my  death. 

I  go  upon  the  upper  deck, 
They  call  "the  hurricane;" 

I  spy  a  seat  hard  by,  I  strive 
"With  all  my  might  to  gain. 

The  passage  thither  seems  up  hill, 
I'm  just  a'going  to  soar ; 

When  lo !  there  comes  a  sudden  lurch — 
I'm  sprawling  on  the  floor  I 

With  stern  resolve  I  seek  the  stern, 
The  ship's  in  mad  carouse; 

The  masts,  as  to  their  master  nod, 
The  bow  is  making  bows. 

The  smoke-stack  is  exceeding  sick, 
It  vomits  forth  a  cloud ; 

A  deathly  pallor  seems  to  sit 
On  every  sail  and  sliroud. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  117 

I  look  down  in  the  engine-room, 

The  struggle  there  is  fine ; 
The  old  ship's  stomach  seems  disturbed 

Almost  as  bad  as  mine. 

An  aftor-thought  conducts  me  aft, 

How  very  queer  I  feel ; 
The  things  go  dancing  round  me  so, 

My  brain  begins  to  reel. 

Then  comes  the  strange  sensation  on, 

The  like  you  never  knew ; 
There's  nothing  for  it  but  to  run — 

Eugh  1  E-ugh  I !    E-e-u-g-h  1 1 ! 

0  grim  old  Neptune  1  once  release 

Your  precious  hold  on  me, 
And  you  may  play  your  pranks  at  will ; 
I'll  never  go  to  sea. 

STEAMSHIP  ILLINOIS,  AT  SEA,         ) 
OFF  COAST  OF  FLORIDA,  Jan.  30,  1863.  j" 

We  had  rough,  weather  nearly  all  the  way  from  New 
York  to  Florida.  Howard  and  Hulet  were  the  only  men 
in  our  department  fit  for  duty.  We  might  feel  pretty 
well,  but  get  down  into  the  hold  where  our  stores  were 
kept,  and  the  old  nausea  would  send  us  up  stairs  on  a 
"double-quick."  On  Monday,  January  26th,  about  10 
A.  M.,  we  reached  Fortress  Monroe,  where  General  An 
drew  went  on  shore  for  orders,  and  whence  we  mailed 
a  good  many  letters.  Fortress  Monroe,  with  its  quiet 
bay,  its  various  crafts,  its  monitors,  and  warlike  surround 
ings,  was  an  interesting  sight  to  us  landsmen,  many  of 
whom  never  before  saw  a  fort  or  a  war  ship. 

General  Andrew  having  returned,  we  again  headed 
south  about  2^  P.  M.  Having  gone  a  little  way,  we  were 
startled  by  the  cry,  "  man  overboard  !"  A  poor  fireman, 
maddened  by  liquor  and  the  heat  of  the  furnace,  rushed 
on  deck,  and  thence  into  the  ocean.  As  soon  as  possible, 
the  ship  was  stopped,  a  boat  lowered,  and  vigorous  arms 
bore  it  on  toward  the  struggling  wretch.  In  the  white 
track  of  the  ship,  we  could  see  an  atom  which  we  knew 


]  1  8  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

was  a  drowning  man.  The  water  had  cooled  his  fever, 
and  brought  back  the  desire  for  life,  for  which  he  fought 
hard.  The  boat  neared  him ;  he  sank  and  rose  again  and 
airain,  and  sank  to  rise  no  more.  Neptune  had  received 
a  tribute  he  must  restore  to  his  master.  Was  it  because 
we  ourselves  were  going  on  an  errand  of  death  that  this- 
startling  episode  failed  to  startle  us?  As  the  waves 
closed  over  the  dead,  leaving  no  trace  behind,  so  did  the 
waves  of  our  lives,  every  day  becoming  more  serious, 
close  over  this  scene,  leaving  scarce  a  ripple. 

Between  Fortress  Monroe  and  the  coast  of  Florida, 
we  had  what  we  called  stormy  weather,  bringing  chill 
to  every  bone,  and  sickness  and  discomfort  to  nearly  all. 
We  were  disappointed  in  the  height  of  the  billows. 
Waves  running  mountain  high  is  poetical,  but  not  true. 
Forty  feet,  their  highest  elevation,  make  a  poor  show  of 
a  mountain  to  men  who  have  been  cradled  by  Mount 
Greylock  and  Everett.  If  mountain  relates  to  discomfort, 
they  were  high  as  Mount  Blanc.  One  night,  they  dashed 
over  the  ship,  rushing  down  the  hold,  putting  out  the 
lights,  and  rousing  the  boys  with  the  conviction  that 
Nep.  was  coining  a  little  too  near  for  safety.  I  don't 
know  how  many  prayed,  but  I  do  know  some  swore  as 
if  fight  rather  than  fear  was  uppermost.  Hearing  the 
profanity,  and  remembering  the  prayers  that  had  cradled 
many  of  them,  one  almost  expected  that  the  God  of  the 
ocean  was  coming  to  visit  us  in  vengeance,  but  mercy 
prevailed,  and  we  lived  till  Friday  evening  to  see  land 
again.  That  sunset  scene,  sun  sinking  in  splendor  to  its 
ocean  bed,  gilding  the  evergreens  of  Florida ;  the  treach 
erous  sea  as  calm  and  almost  as  lovely  as  a  sleeping  babe  ; 
the  air  balmy  as  spring,  all  gave  us  a  fuller  idea  of  the 
meaning  of  "  sunny  South,"  than  we  ever  had  before. 
Saturday  and  Sunday,  the  last  of  January,  and  the  first  of 
February,  were  days  long  to  be  remembered.  Then  we 
wound  round  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  The  sun  was  a 
little  too  warm,  and  coats  became  oppressive.  A  delicious  . 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  119 

languor  crept  into  your  system,  and  mere  existence  was 
a  pleasure.  I  don't  blame  the  Southener  for  being  lazy. 
Life  seemed  to  be  made  there  merely  for  eating  a  little, 
and  basking  and  dreaming  in  the  sun.  We  have  grand, 
glorious  sunsets  in  the  North,  where  every  thing  is  clear 
ly  cut  and  as  brilliantly  distinct  and  vivid  as  if  elabo 
rated  by  the  most  skilful  artist,  but  we  have  no  such  sun 
sets  as  closed  that  first  day  of  February.  A  great  bank 
of  clouds  rose  in  the  west,  looking  so  much  like  huge 
cliffs,  that  you  momentarily  expected  to  hear  the  orders, 
"  Port  your  helm,"  to  avoid  a  collision.  There  is  nothing 
distinct  about  a  tropical  sunset.  All  things  are  blended 
together  as  sweetly  as  a  pleasant  dream.  You  don't  see 
poetry  in  the  clouds  ;  you  feel  it.  Enjoyment,  not  anal 
ysis,  is  your  duty.  Though  Sunday,  and  a  chaplain  was 
on  board,  we  had  no  public  religious  services,  but  I  fancy 
there  were  few  who  were  not  benefited  by  the  sermon 
then  preached  by  nature.  Tempted  by  the  softness  of 
the  air,  I  slept  two  nights  on  deck.  "  I  slept  well.  To 
wake  up  and  see  the  chaste  moon  smiling  on  you ;  to  hear 
the  soft  ripplings  of  the  waves,  and  look  out  on  the  vast 
ocean,  was  enough  to  make  one  forever  forswear  the  effemi 
nacy  of  feathers  and  roofed  chambers.  So  I  thought  till 
on  that  Sunday  night,  I  was  awakened  by  the  falling  rains 
the  howling  wind,  and  the  rolling  deep.  Then  came  a 
storm,  and  I  wrote  myself  down  as  a  fool  to  put  any 
faith  in.  old  ocean.  Only  the  last  evening,  I  was  ready  to 
swear  eternal  love  and  fealty,  and  now,  when  that  beauty 
yet  thrilled  me,  and  that  love  made  me  happy,  a  sudden 
nausea  drove  me  to  the  ship's  side,  where  I  believe  I 
offered  up  my  last  tribute  to  Neptune,  and  with  that 
tribute  forever  closed  my  heart  against  his  seductions. 
We  never  saw  any  loveliness  in  the  ocean  after  that. 
Monday  morning  we  rolled  in  the  trough  of  the  sea, 
fearing  the  breaking  of  the  shaft,  and  the  consequent  in 
gulfing  of  us  all.  The  afternoon  found  us  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Mississippi,  where  a  pilot  came  on  board.  As 


120  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

soon  as  he  sprang  on  the  stairs,  he  cried  out,  "  port  your 
helm  !"  but  too  late,  for  in  a  few  minutes  we  were  fast 
on  the  bar,  and  there  we  lay,  despite  the  puttings  and 
groanings  of  the  vast  engine.  As  the  owners  of  the  boat 
iveeived  fifteen  hundred  dollars  per  day  for  the  use  there 
of  when  in  motion,  and  twelve  hundred  when  at  rest, 
they  were  better  satisfied  with  the  grounding  than  Vere 
we,  notwithstanding  our  time  was  going  on  just  the 
same. 

On  the  following  evening,  we  were  greeted  with  atrop- 
ical  thunderstorm;  none  of  the  sharp,  loud  claps  of  thun 
der  we  were  familiar  with  at  home,  nor  any  of  the  vivid 
flashes  of  lightning,  but  all  was  blended  noise  and  fire. 
Each  clap  of  thunder  would  roll  and  reverberate  till  fol 
lowed  by  another  clap,  keeping  up  one  continuous,  melan 
choly,  angry  din,  while  the  whole  atmosphere  was  so 
charged  with  electricity,  that  you  could  scarcely  tell 
when  one  flash  of  lightning  ended  and  the  next  began. 
It  was  almost  unbroken  flame.  O !  it  was  grand.  In 
the  midst  of  the  night  we  drifted  out  to  sea,  where  we 
found  ourselves  rocking  n^xt  morning,  and  shivering  be 
fore  a  cold  wind  not  unworthy  of  March  at  home,  and  in 
finitely  more  penetrating.  We  got  back  again  to  the  bar, 
and  lay  there  till  Friday  afternoon,  when  the  New  Bruns 
wick,  a  small  ocean  pteamer,  came  down  from  New  Or 
leans,  and  took  tho  soldiers  and  some  of  the  stores  on 
board.  We  left  '.he  Illinois,  cheering  her  kind  captain, 
half  cursing  her  crabbed  cooks,  glad  to  bid  farewell  to 
( he  staff  and  to  the  ocean,  remembering  the  latter  with 
kindness  only  for  the  delicious  sea-bathing,  and  the  two 
days  that  heaven  lent  us  to  show  how  attractive  a  home 
we  may  ultimately  reach.  It  is  a  matter  of  doubt  whether 
the  Illinois  can  get  over  the  bar  at  this  season  of  the 
year.  Strange  that  the  bar  is  more  of  a  bar  in  high 
water  than  at  low  water.  The  rushing  tide  of  the  Mis 
sissippi,  now  full  five  miles  an  hour,  brings  down  so 
much  more  mud  than  when  low ;  that  the  bar  rises  in 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  121 

height  more  rapidly  in  proportion  than  the  water.  Of 
course,  the  river  is  muddy,  but  then  the  water  is  sweet,  so 
we  have  plenty  of  drink,  and  though  our  coffee  has  an  inde 
scribable  color,  yet  it  is  coffee,  and  we  are  satisfied.  We 
are  pretty  well  over  sea-sickness.  It  does  not  leave  you 
weak,  but  with  powers  of  digestion  equal  to  the  con 
sumption  of  more  hard  tack  than  you  can  masticate.  On 
board  this  boat  there  is  no  table  for  officers,  and  so  they 
are  dependent  on  our  humanity  for  coffee,  hard  bread, 
and  salt  beef,  those  staples  of  a  soldier's  larder.  Relieved 
of  the  incubus  of  the  frigid  staff,  a  right  jolly  good  time 
have  we  had  in  coming  up  the  river.  The  colonels,  majors, 
and  a  few  captains,  filled  up  the  few  state-rooms,  so  the 
lieutenants  and  some  of  the  captains  were  bedless,  save 
the  floor.  Not  liking  that,  they  tried  to  make  a  night  of 
it,  and  to  keep  all  awake.  Till  about  two  A.  M.,  they  suc 
ceeded  pretty  well,  but  at  last  succumbed,  finding  sleep 
more  of  a  necessity  than  frolic. 

Early  dawn  found  us  on  deck,  gazing  at  Secessia. 
N"ow,  green  fields,  orange  groves,  palatial  mansions,  and 
slave-cabins  fully  occupy  our  attention.  Budding  trees, 
variegated  with  groves,  in  which  we  can  see  rich,  lus 
cious,  mouth-watering  oranges,  make  it  hard  to  realize  that 
this  is  only  the  seventh  day  of  February.  The  contrast 
between  the  homes  of  the  planters  and  of  their  laborers, 
is  suggestive  of  the  fact,  that  in  the  ever-during  struggle 
between  the  "  privileges  of  the  few  and  the  rights  of  the 
many,"  that  victory  had  here  crowned  the  wrong.  And 
as  I  gazed  on  the  river,  ten  feet  higher  than  the  founda 
tions  of  the  houses,  kept  back  only  by  the  levee,  I  could 
but  think  that  the  time  was  fast  coming  when  the  rush 
ing,  swelling  Mississippi  of  a  Christianized  public  senti 
ment  would  sweep  away  the  levee  that  avarice,  interest, 
and  indifference  had  thrown  around  slavery,  and  swallow 
up  the  distinctions  based  on  the  wrongs  of  centuries.  In 
low  malarious  places,  we  see  many  camps,  from  which 
come  cheers  of  welcome.  'Twas  good  to  see  houses 
6 


122  LIFE    WITH' THE    FORTY-NIN^H 

and  green  fields,  but  better  still  to  see  the  old  Flag  and 
its  blue-coated  defenders.  On  we  sail  up  the  river,  to 
open  which,  that  the  produce  of  the  West  may  again  find 
an  unobstructed  pathway  to  the  markets  of  the  world,  is 
our  mission.  We  believe  it  will  be  the  scene  of  our  tri- 
tn/iphs,  probably  of  our  graves.  Be  it  so;  this  morally 
barren  soil  needs  precious  blood  to  purify  and  enrich  it. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  123 


LETTER    XVIII. 

STEAMSHIP  NEW  BRUNSWICK,  February  18,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L.  : 

My  last  letter  to  you  found  us  drawing  near  to  New 
Orleans.  T.  W.  Judd,  who  carried  the  mail  to  the  office, 
and  cheered  our  hearts  by  bringing  us  Jetters  from  home, 
was  the  only  one  favored  to  see  the  city.  We  saw  de 
serted,  rotting  levees,  frowned  on  by  numerous  gunboats, 
everything  to  denote  war  and  its  destructiveness,  nothing 
to  convince  us  that  we  were  before  the  great  metropolis 
of  the  South-west.  Divers  pieces  of  calico  and  a  few  car 
riages  pleasantly  reminded  us  of  the  friends  and  comforts 
of  the  North.  Peddlers  brought  us  pies,  apples,  and  or 
anges  ;  of  the  latter,  you  could  get  three,  as  large  as  pound 
apples,  for  ten  cents.  You  had  better  believe  that  those 
who  had  any  money  left,  rapidly  invested  it  in  that  invit 
ing  stock.  We  tasted  oranges  for  once.  Some,  who  had 
put  their  faith  in  Uncle  Sam's  promise  of  early  payment, 
and  come  away  penniless,  looked  on  at  the  feast  with  looks 
that  did  not  say  much  about  re-enlisting.  We  have  been 
served  shabbily.  Many  of  us  are  not  able  to  buy  tobacco ; 
and  those  who  have  a  little  of  that  needful  on  hand,  are 
compelled  to  chew  in  secret  or  squander  their  stock,  or 
stultify  their  past  generosity  by  refusing  a  comrade's  ap 
peal. 

About  2  p.  M.  of  February  7th,  we  started  up  the 
river,  and  reached  Carrollton,  a  town  of  three  thousand 
inhabitants,  seven  miles  above  New  Orleans,  with  which 
it  is  connected  by  railroad.  We  were  somewhat  disap 
pointed  in  the  Father  of  Rivers.  He  rolls  along  in  muddy 


124  LIFE   WITII   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

majesty  (above  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri  he  is  as  clear  as 
the  Hudson),  and  at  a  tremendous  pace,  but  he  is  smaller, 
narrower  than  we  expected,  in  no  place  more  than  two- 
thirds  of  a  mile  wide,  lie  is  a  capricious  fellow,  rising 
above  his  ordinary  level,  in  the  spring,  at  New  Orleans, 
thirteen  feet,  and  at  Cairo  sixty  feet,  digging  out  huge 
tracks  on  one  side,  and  yielding  up  a  part  of  his  domain 
on  the  other.  He  spawns  a  species  of  fiddlers,  a  crab-like 
fish,  who  by  honey-combing  the  levees,  get  up  a  dance  of 
mad  waters,  far  from  agreeable  to  men  who  live  ten  feet 
below  the  surface  thereof. 

On  reaching  Carrollton,  we  were  met  by  quite  a  number 
of  the  Thirty-first,  Massachusetts.  It  was  a  truly  pleas 
ant  reunion.  I  then  took  my  first  trip  in  Secessia — Xor- 
thrup  and  I  made  for  an  oyster-saloon.  For  a  stew,  we 
were  each  charged  forty  cents.  Every  thing  salable  is 
on  the  same  scale.  They  have  no  pennies  here,  nothing 
less  than  "  picayunes,"  which  formerly  meant  six  and  one- 
quarter  cents  each,  but  are  now  reduced  to  five  cents. 
Perchance  this  little  custom  is  the  basis  of  the  reputation 
Southerners  have  for  generosity.  They  are  not  generous 
Tvith  their  money,  only  reckless.  Yearly,  that  little  town 
of  Boston  contributes  more  to  charitable  and  religious 
purposes  than  the  whole  South.  I  find  the  negroes  arc- 
alike  reckless  as  their  masters,  charging  the  most  exor 
bitant  priivs  for  all  they  do  or  sell,  and  squandering  their 
money  with  a  perfect  looseness.  Being  compelled  to  buy 
five  cents'  worth  or  nothing,  leads  to  this  careless  improv 
idence. 

Most  of  us  have  prepared  ourselves  for  this  warm  clime 
by  having  our  heads  sheared,  so  we  look  ugly  enough  to 
scare  the  long-haired  Southrons.  The  residents  here  are 
mainly  Germans.  Occasionally  you  meet  a  native,  who, 
with  his  fierce  eyes,  long  hair,  light-sleeved,  short-tail 
coat,  closely-fitting  pants,  and  shining  black-silk  hat,  looks 
as  if  he  belonged  to  another  race.  Some  of  these  natives 
have  a  low,  mean  scowl  on  their  faces,  and  would  be  dan- 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS,  125 

gerous  if  their  courage  were  equal  to  their  fierceness. 
They  are  generally  taller,  and  larger-boned  than  we  are. 
Men,  women,  and  children,  are  sallow.  Any  careful  ob 
server  would  see  that,  for  real  grit,  manly  defiance,  per 
severing  valor,  we  are  almost  infinitely  superior.  There 
may  be  Southern  gentlemen,  I  have  as  yet  seen  no  one 
that  had  a  right  to  answer  to  that  call.  I  have  seen  men 
of  wealth,  but  they  looked  like  a  cross  between  the  Span 
ish  brigand  and  the  overseer.  Gazing  at  them  is  apt  to 
make  you  doubt  whether  it  is  possible  or  desirable  to 
live  in  peace  with  them.  I  suppose  the  chivalry  are  all 
in  the  army.  Everybody  here  looks  lazy. 

Of  course  I  strolled  abound  among  the  darkeys,  talking 
with  nearly  every  one  I  met  about  slavery  and  freedom, 
and  trying  to  find  him  who  preferred  the  former  to  the 
latter.  I  have  not  yet  succeeded,  I  shall  continue  my 
search.  There  are  a  good  many  genuine  Africans  here. 
I  learn  that  they  came  down  from  up  the  river.  The  res 
ident  negroes  are  nearly  all  mulattoes  and  quadroons, 
some  of  whom  are  handsome.  The  women  seem  proud 
of  their  almost  white  children,  holding  the  fruit  of  their 
adultery  as  an  evidence  of  their  charms.  Judging  by  the 
extreme  hideousness  of  some  of  these  mothers,  I  was 
led  to  conclude  that  Southern  passion  was  superior  to 
Southern  taste.  No  wonder  that  the  poor  wenches  blush 
not.  They  have  never  been  taught  the  sacredness  of 
woman's  virtue.  If  they  bring  a  free  child  into  the 
world,  they  may  be  cursed  for  increasing  a  hated  and 
feared  class ;  if  they  bring  forth  .a  slave-child,  they  are 
praised,  but  in  neither  case  taught  that  God  has  said, 
"Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery."  The  Southern  code 
strikes  out  the  "not,"  and  emphasizes  the  "shalt."  Men 
and  women  alike  testify  to  the  brutal  lust  of  the  whites, 
it  being  no  uncommon  thing  for  the  master  or  overseer 
to  drive  the  husband  from  his  bed  and  take  his  place,  or 
for  women  to  be  fearfully  scarred,  who  through  caprice 
or  principle  refuse  their  adulterous  embrace.  Enceinte 


126  LIFE    AVITII    THE    FOHTY-MNTII 

women  are  often  whipped.  They  arc  laid  with  their  faces  to 
the  ground,  which  is  so  excavated  as  not  to  endanger  the 
life  of  the  child.  Slavery  alone  could  present  such  an  in 
stance  of  hellish  ferocity  and  avarice.  I  wish  that  it  could 
be  said  that  amalgamation  is  confined  to  the  Southerners. 
I  fear  it  is  not  so.  I  saw  an  old  woman  of  seventy  on 
the  levee,  who  had  come  down  from  up  the  river.  On 
inquiring  how  she  supported  herself  in  freedom,  she  said 
she  had  been  a  midwife  at  one  of  the  camps.  "  Midwife 
at  camp !  what  on  earth  do  soldiers  in  camp  need  mid- 
wives  for?"  "Oh!"  said  she,  "the  darkey  women  will 
fall  in  love  with  the  Yankee  soldiers,  and  I  have  to  take 
care  of  the  little  mules."  Alas  for  human  nature  !  With 
others,  I  have  always  considered  the  negro  as  peculiarly 
sensual.  If  so,  phrenology  is  a  lie.  The  heads  of  the 
men  are  very  deficient  in  animal  force,  the  major  part  be 
ing  above  and  in  front  of  the  ears.  Singular,  but  true; 
the  heads  of  the  women  indicate  great  animal  passions. 
Difference  in  toil  and  exposure  will  hardly  account  for 
this  difference. 

While  at  Carrollton,  a  whole  colony,  of  contrabands 
were  moved  there.  I  saw  a  girl  of  seventeen  going 
through  all  the  antics  of  a  monkey  or  a  boy  of  six  years. 
That  is  the  only  specimen  of  the  rollicking,  joyous,  devil- 
may-care  African  I  have  seen.  I  had  no  doubt  that  the 
negroes,  if  not  a  happy  race,  were  at  least  careless  and 
light-hearted.  Observation  begins  to  compel  me  to  rewrite 
my  former  theories,  and  to  set  down  their  joyousness  and 
happiness  as  a  plantation  lie.  I  have  been  with  them  a 
great  deal,  and  never  before  saw  so  much  of  gloom,  de 
spondency,  and  listlessness.  I  saw  no  banjo,  heard  none 
but  solemn  songs.  In  church,  or  in  the  street,  they  im 
press  me  with  a  great  sadness.  They  are  a  sombre,  not 
a  happy  race.  I  attended  one  of  their  class  and  prayer 
meetings  at  Carrollton,  and  in  speaking  to  them,  inciden 
tally  said,  "  The  first  gun  fired  at  Fort  Sumter  cracked  the 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  127 

chain  of  every  slave  in  the  land."  I  was  surprised  at  the 
response.  "  Glory !  Hallelujah !"  sounded  from  all  parts 
of  the  house.  Old  men  cried,  clapped  their  hands,  and 
all  gathered  round  me,  as  if  I  were  an  angel  of  good  tid 
ings.  With  no  gentle  pressure  they  shook  my  hand,  al 
most  hugged  me,  and  called  down  all  manner  of  benedic 
tions  on  my  head.  Yet  they  do  not  appreciate  or  care  for 
freedom !  In  every  prayer,  blessings  were  invoked  for 
our  officers  and  soldiers,  and  especially  for  our  sick.  We 
left  Carrollton  about  1  A.  M.,  the  17th  inst.  Getting  on 
the  boat  at  that  late  hour,  Captain  Chaffee,  a  thorough 
anti-slavery  soldier,  heard  a  plaintive  voice  singing,  "  Am 
I  a  soldier  of  the  cross,"  and  "  don't  forget  to  pray." 
He  followed  the  voice,  and  was  led  to  an  old  negro  wo 
man.  She  told  him  she  came  there  to  pray  for  our  suc 
cess,  and  that  God  would  make  us  soldiers  of  the  cross. 
Poor  old  woman  !  freedom  would  benefit  her  but  little, 
but  in  the  thick  darkness  she  was  praying  for  it,  and  see 
ing  in  us  God's  agents  to  usher  in  the  wished-for  day. 
She  was  also  praying  that  we  might  be  morally  prepared 
to  share  in  its  triumphs.  Yet,  the  negro  does  not  desire 
freedom  !  On  our  way  up  from  Carrollton,  one  got  the 
wood-pile  between  him  and  the  whites,  and  then  vigor 
ously  waved  his  hat  in  welcome.  It  was  our  only  wel 
come.  Tears,  half  of  anger,  half  of  joy,  filled  my  eyes; 
and  if  there  were  another  half,  half  of  intense  determina 
tion  to  do  something  to  give  that  negro  the  right  to  greet 
the  old  flag  before  all  the  world,  with  none  to  molest  or 
make  him  afraid.  Talk  about  a  race  having  such  intense, 
unsatisfied  longings  as  a  happy  race  !  Absurd  !  Thank 
God,  the  old  flag  now  means  freedom  to  all  under  its 
folds. 

"  Fremont  is  music.  For  that  or  for  some  other  reason, 
every  negro  remembers  the  name.  They  may  know 
nothing  about  Lincoln  or  his  proclamation,  but  they  know 
something  about  Fremont.  That  glorious  campaign,  in 


128  LIFE  WITH  THI:  ruin  Y-NLNTU 

which  he  was  standard-bearer,  a  campaign  of  principles, 
a  campaign  when  Seward  was  radical,  and  Lincoln  was 
stepping  up  to  the  height  of  January  1st,  1803,  stirred  up 
alike  every  fear  of  the  master,  and  every  hope  of  the 
shive.  Fremont  was  the  North  star  brought  down  to 
the  Gulf,  their  first  and  enduring  love.  O,  to  see  him 
range  the  South !  Then  the  end  were  at  hand. 

"  Do  not  think  I  have  the  negrophobia.  Remember  this 
is  my  first  letter  from  the  land  of  Slavery.  Subsequent 
letters  will  be  less  dark  than  this,  but  in  nearly  all  the 
inevitable  negro  will  appear.  Sambo  was  the  occasion 
of  this  war.  Sambo  is  in  the  fence.  Sambo  will  not 
down,  and  poor  correspondent  would  I  be  if  I  ignored 
Sambo.  He  will  wind  up  the  war.  For  the  present, 
farewell  to  Sambo." 

On  Sunday,  the  8th  instant,  Colonel  Sumner  led  the 
regiment  through  the  streets  of  Carrollton.  Fifteen  days 
on  shipboard  made  the  march  very  pleasant.  Save  the 
negroes  going  to  church,  you  would  not  imagine  that  it 
were  Sunday.  Sunday  here  means  business,  frolic,  and 
holiday.  The  days  are  divided  into  mornings,  evenings, 
and  nights ;  afternoon  is  an  unmeaning  word. 

On  Monday,  the  9th,  at  five  P.  M.,  we  encamped  about 
half  a  mile  from  the  river,  on  ground  as  flat  as  a  board. 
Scarce  of  tents,  the  boys  piled  in  seven  or  eight  thick,  in 
volving  the  necessity  of  sleeping  two  deep.  We  got  our 
tents  u]),  when  orders  came  for  us  to  start  at  once  up  the 
river.  Some  of  our  goods  being  on  the  Illinois,  secured 
us  a  respite.  Flies  (in  February)  and  spiders  as  large  as 
walnuts,  are  a  part  of  our  reminiscences  of  Carrollton. 
Being  at  the  closing  up  of  the  rainy  season,  we  had  half 
a  dozen  showers  daily.  The  smallest  cloud  baptized  us, 
and  we  obtained  a  deeper  insight  into  mud  than  ever  be 
fore.  Strong  must  be  your  soles  if  you  djd  not  leave 
them.  Dig  down  eighteen  inches,  and  you  reached 
water.  The  air  was  so  warm,  that  many  abandoned  their 
under-clothes,  a  hazardous  experiment  where  the  ground 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  129 

is  very  damp,  and  fogs  so  heavy  that  the  snn  does  not 
rise  till  near  noon.  Though  again  favored  to  eat  soft 
bread,  we  had  no  cook-houses,  few  cooking-utensils,  and 
our  drink  was  Mississippi  water,  of  the  consistence  of 
thin  mud,  and  the  color  of  strong  lemonade.  Diarrhoea 
seized  nearly  all  of  us,  and  fever  followed  hard  after — as 
not  even  at  Camp  Briggs  were  our  streets  kept  clean,  being 
not  merely  a  matter  of  pride  and  taste,  but  of  health,  of  life. 

Last  Sunday  we  had  a  rain.  Thunder  and  lightning 
accompanied  it.  We  never  witnessed  such  before.  The 
wind  strained  every  tent-cord,  and  overturned  the  sut 
ler's  tent.  Round  every  field  there  was  a  ditch  and  a 
bank  three  or  four  feet  high.  The  rain  filled  up  the 
ditch,  and  began  to  reach  our  tent-floors.  Co.  A,  occupy 
ing  the  lowest  part  of  the  ground,  had  a  strange  experi 
ence.  As  the  rain  increased,  they  would  raise  their  floors 
till  they  could  raise  them  no  higher,  and  then  perch  them 
selves  on  cracker-boxes,  with  feet  on  high,  a  position  that 
had  one  advantage.  They  were  willing  to  rise  early  next 
morning.  The  water  filled  up  the  whole  camp,  being  on 
an  average  two  to  three  feet  deep.  Next  morning  we 
found  no  traces  of  the  storm  save  wet  blankets,  damp 
soldiers,  and  some  surface  mud.  Where  that  water  went 
to,  we  never  could  imagine.  It  could  not  have  been  ab 
sorbed  ;  for,  before  the  rain,  digging  eighteen  inches 
would  bring  you  to  the  water.  Some  say  that  all  the 
ditches  slope  towards  Lake  Ponchartrain,  where  there  is  a 
powerful  engine  to  throw  the  water  over  the  levee. 
Powerful  indeed  must  be  that  engine. 

On  the  13th,  we  witnessed  the  burial  of  a  soldier  from 
New  Hampshire.  The  first  we  had  seen,  it  impressed  us 
solemnly.  First,  went  the  brass  band,  playing  a  solemn 
dirge,  then  the  hearse  or  ambulance  (a  two- wheeled  cart 
with  a  linen  cover,  used  for  conveying  sick,  wounded, 
and  dead,  looking  like  a  baker's  cart),  and  then  twelve 
soldiers  with  reversed  guns.  They  marched  very  slow 
ly  to  the  grave,  whore  they  buried  their  comrade  ;  and 
6* 


IttO  I. II  i:    WITH    THE    FOKTY-MMH 

having  fired  throe  volleys  over  his  grave,  returned  to  tho 
lively  music  of  the  band.  The  solemnity  was  so  oppres 
sive,  that  I  could  see  great  propriety  in  banishing  the 
gloom  by  stirring,  cheerful  music.  I  went  to  the  sol 
dier's  cemetery.  The  graves  are  less  than  two  fret  deep, 
of  which  six  inches  are  water,  rendering  it  necessary  to 
bore  holes,  or  put  stones  in  the  coffin  to  sink  it.  Each 
grave  is  marked  by  a  head-board,  on  which  the  name, 
company,  and  regiment  of  the  dead,  are  marked.  An  offi 
cer  keeps  a  record  of  the  cemetery,  to  enable  those  who 
may  wish  to  exhume  the  remains  of  their  friends,  to  ascer 
tain  their  respective  graves.  Among  the  wooden  head 
boards  was  a  marble  stone,  a  token  of  a  brother's  affec 
tion.  On  many  of  these  were  inscriptions.  I  copied 
this  one  : 

""Weep  not  for  me,  my  wife  and  infants  dear; 
For  I  am  not  dead,  but  sleeping  here  ; 
So  after  me  no  sorrow  take, 
But  love  my  infants  for  my  sake." 

Poor,  dear  fellow  !  he  was  not  much  of  a  poet,  but  the 
rude  lines  were  touching.  They  told  where  his  dyiixj; 
thoughts  were  turned,  and  how  the  patriot  -was  lost  in 
the  husband,  the  father.  Many  Xew  England  homes  are 
linked  to  that  graveyard  with  chains  of  sadness.  Each 
grave  has  its  own  unwritten  history  of  hopes  and  joys  of 
fered  up  for  a  nation's  life  and  purity.  That  cemetery  is 
fast  being  filled  up,  and  it  is  only  a  small  one  of  hun 
dreds.  So  let  it  be,  if  God's  truth  can  only  thus  be  main 
tained.  Gloomy  are  our  recollections  of  Carrollton.  It 
is  truly  a  fever-spot.  This  country  is  not  fit  for  the  resi 
dence  of  man.  Leave  it  for  a  decade  of  centuries,  and 
geological  changes  may  render  it  habitable.  At  present, 
it  is  well  termed  the  "graveyard  of  the  South-west/' 
One  of  our  dead  lies  in  the  cemetery  at  Carrollton,  Wil 
liam  W.  Rossiter,  (B)  Richmond,  lie  was  a  farmer-boy 
of  eighteen  years  of  age.  He  died  on  the  morning  of  tho 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  131 

seventeenth,  of  typhoid  fever.  Fortunately,  his  brothers 
were  allowed  to  be  with  him  in  his  dying  hours.  Thus 
went  down  to  the  grave  the  Benjamin  of  the  flock.  He 
was  a  nice,  good,  moral  boy,  full  of  life,  and  liked  by  all. 
Another  New  England  home  to  be  darkened.  We  loft 
some  of  our  sick  behind  us — sick,  we  fear,  unto  death. 
We  left  them  among  strangers.  William  Deming  (H) 
died  on  board  the  Illinois,  the  eighth  instant.  His  disease 
was  of  the  nature  of  an  abscess  in  the  head.  He  was  a 
young  farmer  from  Sandisfield,  aged  twenty-four  years. 
A  fine  man,  a  much-esteemed  citizen,  a  soldier  always 
willing  to  do  his  best,  he  died  not  alone,  for  some  of  his 
comrades  remained  on  the  ship  and  ministered  to  him. 
He  was  buried  on  one  of  the  islands  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Mississippi.  We  expect  that  that  mighty  river  will  mark 
our  triumphs,  but  we  did  not  expect  it  so  soon  to  mark 
our  burials. 

On  last  Sunday,  Colonel  Bartlett  read  to  the  regiment 
the  church  service.  His  rich  voice  was  in  unison  with 
the  richness  and  majesty  of  that  liturgy,  producing  so 
good  an  effect  that  we  the  more  earnestly  desired  to 
have  the  labors  of  a  good  chaplain.  Tha-t  we  are  with 
out  a  chaplain  is  not  the  fault  of  Governor  Andrew,  for, 
on  the  representation  to  him  of  our  lack  in  that  respect, 
he  requested  our  colonel  to  appoint  one,  or  to  give  him 
authority  to  do  so.  The  following  extract  from  Colonel 
Bartlett's  letter  in  reply,  shows  his  position  relative  to 
this  important  matter : 

"  The  position  of  chaplain  I  consider  one  of  the  most 
difficult  to  fill,  and  I  have  seen  such  evils  follow  from  the 
presence  of  inefficient  or  unworthy  chaplains  (not  in  Mas 
sachusetts  regiments),  that  I  have  hesitated  to  nominate 
any  one  for  that  position,  unless  I  found  some  one  who 
was  qualified,  both  in  character  and  ability.  Such  a  one 
has  not  offered  yet.  Your  correspondent  is  misinformed 
as  to  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath  in  this  regiment, 
There  are  the  regular  duties  of  the  day,  such  as  '  guard- 


132  LIFE   WITH   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

mounting,'  '  Sunday  morning  inspection,'  and  '  dress  pa 
rade,'  which  are  never  omitted,  but  besides  these  it  is  a 
day  of  rest. 

"I  have  always  afforded  every  opportunity  for  the  men 
to  attend  divine  worship  on  that  day.  I  have  also  read 
the  services  myself  on  that  day,  to  all  who  desired  to  at 
tend,  it  being  one  of  the  duties  of  the  couttitandiit<i  offi 
cer  in  the  absence  of  a  chaplain." 

I  don't  wonder  that  the  colonel  hesitates  in  this  mat 
ter.  Before  the  weeding-out  process,  many  of  the  chap 
lains  were  a  disgrace  to  the  service,  and  productive  of 
evil  only.  Better  no  chaplain  than  one  who  is  immoral, 
lazy,  or  indifferent.  Men  have  filled  that  position  who, 
at  home,  could  never  get  or  keep  a  charge,  or  whose  rep 
utations  stood  in  great  need  of  repairs.  I  know  a  chap 
lain  of  fourteen  months'  standing,  who  has  never  preached 
a  sermon  to,  or  held  a  prayer-meeting  in,  his  regiment. 
One  bright  Sunday  morning,  I  attended  services  at  a  neigh 
boring  cam]),  and  there  were  not  forty  of  that  chaplain's 
men  present.  No  duties  prevented  their  attendance. 
Be  assured,  he  neglected  his  duty.  Let  a  chaplain  do 
his  work  well,  and  he  will  bind  the  hearts  of  the  men  to 
him,  and  save  souls  from  death.  We  want  earnest,  brave 
men,  men  who  will  carry  the  gospel  to  the  battle-field, 
men  like  that  monk  who  attended  Marmion  on  Flodden 
field— 

"  A  pious  man  whom  duty  brought 
To  dubious  verge  of  battle  fought, 
To  shrive  the  dying,  bless  the  dead." 

Well,  if  not  fated  to  be  ministered  to  as  we  desiro,  we 
may  thank  our  colonel  that  no  unworthy  representative 
of  the  Master  shall  make  us  distrust  the  sacred  profession, 
and  sow  seeds  of  infidelity  in  our  hearts.  If  not  bk  - 
with  one  who  might  be  to  us  a  "  savor  of  life  unto  life," 
we  are  not  to  be  cursed  with  him  wrho  would  be  a  "  sa 
vor  ol  death  unto  death." 

On   Monday,  at   4  p.  M.,  we   got  orders  to   go  up   the 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  133 

river,  and  it  was  Tuesday  4  A.  M.,  before  the  troops  were 
on  board.  Twelve  hours  in  the  mud  is  military,  but  not 
pleasant.  Leaving  Carrollton,  we  left  no  regretsj  save 
that  we  had  to  bid  farewell  to  our  cooking-ranges,  and 
to  find  out  what  luxury  there  is  in  food  of  which  smoke 
is  a  large  ingredient.  Where  we  are  going,  we  know  not ; 
perchance  to  battle.  Already  some  have  shown  symp 
toms  of  bullet-fever,  a  fever  which  really  prostrates  a 
man.  Rallying  from  that,  he  may  be  the  bravest  of  the 
brave.  Imagination  presenting  danger  in  every  form, 
he  will  find  the  reality  so  much  less  than  he  feared,  that 
he  will  not  be  nearly  so  apt  to  be  panic-stricken  as  he 
who  meets  that  experience  for  the  first  time  in  the  pres 
ence  of  the  foe.  This  is  the  fiery  baptism  of  battle. 
Dealing  out  cartridges  somewhat  strengthens  the  impres 
sion  that  we  are  Hearing  the  hour  when  men's  souls  and 
reputations  will  be  tried.  Our  trip  up  the  river  has  been 
very  pleasant,  though  all  hands  have  been  reduced  to 
planks  for  beds,  and  for  food  to  the  primitive  hard  tack,  salt 
beef,  and  coifee.  Many  of  the  mansions  lining  the  river 
are  all  we  have  imagined  of  Southern  wealth  and  luxury. 
The  whitewashed  slave-cabins  looked  comfortable. 

On  Tuesday  evening,  we  anchored  off  Donaldsonville, 
a  small,  war-wrecked  village.  The  fog  was  so  great  that 
we  feared  travelling  in  the  dark  would  result  in  our  run 
ning  into  a  bar  or  snag,  and  a  probable  visit  from  gue 
rillas.  So  we  rested  under  the  guns  of  Fort  Butler,  a 
neat,  trim-looking  citadel,  and  heard  the  sunset  gun,  and 
saw  the  descending  flag,  all  which  was  to  us  novel  and 
warlike.  Quite  a  number  of  gunboats  are  wending  their 
way  up  the  river ;  so  perchance,  before  another  mail-day 
rolls  round,  we  may  have  struck  a  blow  for  God  and  our 
native  land. 
12 


134  LIFE  WITH  Tin:  FOKTY-MMII 


LETTER    XIX. 

CAMP  BANKS,  BATON  ROUGE,  LA.,  February  21,  18G3. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

To  date  a  letter  from  "  Camp  Banks"  again,  brings  to 
mind  our  life  on  Long  Island,  but  here  we  are  with 
balmy  airs,  budding  trees,  and  opening  gardens.  We 
reached  this  city,  the  capital  of  Louisiana,  about  Wednes 
day  noon.  The  high  bluff  on  which  the  city  is*  built 
is  an  agreeable  contrast  to  the  fever  level  of  Carrollton. 
Our  camp  is  about  one  and  a  half  miles  east  of  the  river, 
from  which  we  draw  our  water.  Poor  as  it  is,  it  is  more 
wholesome  than  well-water.  The  citizens  generally  UM> 
cistern-water.  Our  camping-ground  was  once  occupied 
by  the  rebels  for  a  similar  purpose.  A  battle  was  fought 
here  last  August,  and  the  trees  show  the  effect  of  shot 
and  shell,  while  bones  of  animals  and  of  men  testify  that 
wo  gained  no  bloodless  victory.  The  boys  have  brought 
several  unexploded  shells  into  camp,  one  weighing  one 
hundred  and  thirty-seven  pounds  ;  a  substantial  reason 
for  the  rebels'  fear  of  gunboats.  We  have  the  best 
ground  for  a  camp  in  the  neighborhood,  sloping  so  as  to 
remove  all  fears  of  being  again  drowned  out.  Near  it  is 
our  parade-ground,  a  vast  field  of  several  hundred  acres. 
Here  we  have  brigade  drills,  the  regiment  being  now 
merged  into  the  brigade.  We  belong  to  the  First  Brigade, 
First  Division,  which  consists  of  the  Hundred  and  Six 
teenth  New  York,  Forty-eighth,  Forty-ninth  Massachu 
setts,  and  the  Twenty-first  Maine.  Colonel  Chapin,  of  the 
Hundred  and  Sixteenth  New  York,  is  our  acting  briga 
dier.  He  had  experience  and  wounds  on  the  Potomac, 
and  is  considered  reliable  and  worthy.  Our  major-gen 
eral  is  C.  C.  Augur,  an  old  West-Pointer,  and  reputed  to 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  135 

be  one  of  our  best  generals.  Banks  has  gathered  around 
him  men  of  fine  military  ability.  Augur,  Grover,  Emory, 
Sherman,  Weitzel,  Arnold,  form  a  brilliant  constellation. 
In  a  recent  division  review,  we  saw  none  superior  to  our 
own  Forty-ninth.  I  have  not  yet  seen  its  physical  equal. 
Now  we  are  living  a  military  life.  Guards  no  longer 
slouch  along  with  unloaded  guns,  or  run  to  their  tents 
when  oif  their  beats,  or  are  careless  as  to  who  pass  or 
repass.  All  that  is  altered.  Within  a  few  miles  is  the 
enemy,  so  sentinels  feel  that  in  their  watchfulness  the 
safety  of  many  lives  depends.  You  will  seldom  hear  that 
it  is  such  an  hour  of  the  day,  but  it  is  just  before  or  after 
reveille,  or  guard-mount,  or  dress-parade,  or  roll-call,  or 
taps.  Watches  are  almost  superfluous.  To  our  other 
duties  is  now  superadded  that  of  picket.  A  certain  num 
ber  of  each  regiment  are  detailed  daily  for  this  impor 
tant  work.  The  picket-lines  extend  from  river  to  river, 
forming  a  semicircle  of  five  or  six  miles.  The  pickets 
carry  all  their  traps  with  them,  so  as  to  be  re;kly  to  join 
in  march,  attack,  or  retreat,  at  a  moment's  notice.  Three 
occupy  a  post.  In  daytime,  one  stands  guard,  and  the 
others  rest ;  but  at  night,  only  one  rests  at  a  time.  In 
case  of  an  attack,  they  fire  two  signal-guns  to  prepare 
their  camps  for  action,  and  then  fall  back  on  the  reserve 
pickets.  If  practicable,  resistance  is  here  made  to  the 
advancing  enemy;  if  not  practicable,  they  retreat  to  the 
camp,  firing  their  guns.  Our  nearest  pickets  are  but 
half  a  mile  from  us,  too  near  to  give  us  time  to  "  fall  in" 
if  they  were  beat  back  by  a  superior  force  ;  but  there  are 
cavalry  pickets  or  scouts  much  farther  in  advance,  so  we 
sleep  securely,  though  the  sudden  firing  of  two  guns  in 
quick  succession,  the  other  night,  rather  startled  us. 
Picket-work  has  some  charms  about  it,  and  also  many 
inconveniences  and  dangers.  Occasionally,  they  are 
fired  into  by  guerillas.  There  is  some  romantic  and  pa 
triotic  politeness  about  army-life.  While  the  pickets  file' 
past  the  "  field-officer  of  the  day,"  on  their  way  to  their 


136  LIFE   WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

respective  posts,  he  remains  uncovered,  as  if  to  say, 
"Guardians  of  an  army's  safety,  you  go  //>cf,vtf  the  foo 
to  watch  over  and  protect  u>,  and  through  us,  the  nation; 
yours  is  the  post  of  danger  and  of  honor ;  with  uncovered 
head  I  salute  you."  While  sentinels  around  the  camp 
are  called  "quarter-guards,"  these  are  known  as  "grand 
I/wards"  No  one  is  allowed  to  pass  the  pickets  without 
a  permit  from  head-quarters.  Xot  unfrequently  some 
proud  dame,  who  has  stayed  beyond  her  allotted  time, 
presents  herself  to  the  officer  of  the  picket,  and  is  conse 
quently  escorted  by  a  gallant  blue-coat  to  the  provost 
marshal.  Judging  by  her  sullen  demeanor,  she  does  not 
appreciate  the  gallantry.  More  amusing  is  it  to  see  one 
of  our  boys  chaperone  some  greasy  African  wench  to  the 
same  officer.  All  along  the  road  he  will  be  met  with  sal 
lies  of  humor  that  keep  his  blushing  damsel  on  the  broad 
grin.  Our  sense  of  the  ludicrous  is  apt  to  make  us  for 
get  the  deference  due  to  woman,  no  matter  what  her 
color.  'Twould  argue  a  higher  self-respect,  did  the 
damsel  meet  the  humor  with  anger  rather  than  with 
mirth.  It  is  hard  to  have  se//-respect  when  you  have 
never  enjoyed  the  respect  of  others. 

Baton  Rouge  is  quite  a  pretty  place  of  some  four  thou 
sand  inhabitants,  mainly  situated  on  a  bluff,  about  forty 
feet  above  high-water  level.  The  sheets  are  broad, 
regular,  shaded,  and  now  clean.  Save  the  penitentiary,  it 
has  but  two  large  buildings,  one  of  them  now  in  ruins ; 
yet,  even  in  ruins,  the  State-House  is  beautiful,  especially 
to  Northern  eyes,  for  the  yard  is  as  green  as  are  ours  in 
June.  It  is  a  grand  rind  beautiful  wreck.  Here  was 
fought  the  battle  of  Louisiana  Secession,  and  treason  tri 
umphed.  Then  came  the  battle  of  last  August,  and  treason 
was  vanquished,  and  the  old  Hag  once  more  waved  over 
the  pride  of  Louisiana.  Soldiers,  Union  and  rebel,  were 
stationed  there  when  tho  building  was  fired.  How  or  by 
whom,  no  one  knows.  Each  side  accuses  the  other  of  the 
deed.  The  magnificent  library  the  fine  furniture,  the 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  137 

treasures  of  art,  were  all  consumed.  Only  Powers'  statue 
of  Washington  was  rescued  from  the  flames.  Naught  now 
remains  but  the  massive  and  beautiful  frame.  Lower 
down  the  river  stands  the  Deaf  and  Dumb  Asylum,  a 
long  white  building  with  large  wings.  It  is  four  stories 
high,  and  round  the  entire  building  run  two  deep  verandas, 
which,  with  the  spacious  rooms,  admirably  adapt  it  for  a 
hospital.  Like  the  State-House,  the  yard  is  enclosed  with 
a  fine  iron  fence,  and  filled  with  all  kinds  of  flowers  an.d 
shrubbery.  The  dwelling-houses  are  mostly  one  story  in 
height,  with  an  attic,  destitue  of  cellars,  which  cause  the 
buildings  to  rot,  and  nearly  every  one  boasts  a  deep  piazza, 
the  best-patronized  part  of  the  house.  As  the  doors  are 
generally  open  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  we  can  see  how 
Southern  houses  are  furnished,  which  is  in  a  style  very 
inferior  to  corresponding  houses  in  the  North.  Carpets 
are  few  in  number,  and  the  walls  are  seldom  papered.  It 
is  not  unusual  to  see  pianos  in  rooms  thus  destitute.  Cool 
ness  and  cleanliness  are,  at  least,  secured.  Green  shutters 
are  attached  to  doors  and  windows  to  keep  out  the  heat. 
The  beauty  of  their-  gardens  is  shut  in  from  the  view  of 
outsiders  by  high  fences,  which,  with  the  howlings  of 
dogs  inside,  indirectly  refer  to  the  peculiar  institution. 
The  bed  is  the  great  feature  of  the  room,  being  of  the 
high,  solid  posters  and  heavy  top-pieces  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  They  are  often  eight  feet  long  by  six  feet  wide. 
The  neighboring  woods  supply  them  with  moss,  which, 
when  dried,  makes  the  best  of  mattresses.  The  rods  and 
rings  for  curtains  point  to  probable  mosquitoes,  of  which, 
they  say,  they  have  some,  but  aver  they  are  not  as  bad 
here  as  elsewhere.  I  have  heard  that  same  remark  in 
latitudes  where  I  could  scarcely  discern  the  color  of  my 
horse  for  the  pestiferous  hordes,  so  I  draw  less  comfort 
from  their  statement  than  do  others.  The  city  boasts  four 
churches,  one  of  which,  the  Methodist,  is  a  handsome  and 
commodious  edifice.  There  are  occasional  services  in  the 
Episcopal,  and  regular  services  in  the  Catholic  church; 


138  LIFE    WITH   THE   FOETY-N1M  II 

otherwise  you  must  worship  in  the  Methodist  church,  now 
under  the  care  of  the  negroes.  Judging  from  the  number 
of  stores,  this  was  once  quite  a .  husiiu->s  place.  Most  of 
those  now  occupied  are  in  the  hands  of  Northern  men,  who 
keep  a  poor  stock,  but  are  not  deficient  in  their  char 
Take  away  the  trees  and  shrubbery,  and  you  cannot  find 
what  you  would  term  a  handsome  place,  in  town.  Fe\v, 
who  can  afford  plantations,  live  in  cities,  save  doctors, 
lawyers,  ministers,  and  merchants.  The  wealth  is  in  the 
country,  to  which  towns  are  the  merest  adjuncts ;  land 
owning,  and  consequent  slave-owning,  is  the  criterion  of 
respectability.  Who  own  the  land  will  be  the  rulers. 
Hence  the  home-power  of  Southerners,  hence  their  oppo 
sition  to  homestead-bills.  Even  in  England,  an  extensive 
land-owner,  though  a  parvenu,  has  more  local  influence 
than  an  acreless  lord,  though  in  his  veins  runs  the  blood 
of  all  the  Howards.  The  North  knows  little  or  nothing  of 
the  power  of  leaders.  We  thank  our  free  schools  for  it ; 
we  ought  also  to  thank  that  Providence  which  has  divided 
the  soil  among  many  owners.  Perchance  the  latter  flows 
from  the  former  blessing.  Feudal  South  can  only  be  rc- 
publicanized  by  impoverishing  the  great  landlords.  The 
war  will  do,  is  doing  that.  Then  democracy  will  gravitate 
to  the  country,  and  the  aristocracy  to  towns  and  cities. 

The  north  part  of  the  city  is  ornamented  by  the  arsenal 
buildings  and  grounds.  They  are  pleasantly  situated,  and 
quite  spacious.  Thanks  to  the  loyalty  of  Secretary  Floyd, 
they  were  well  filled  with  arms  and  munitions  of  war. 
Of  course  the  rebels  seized  all.  Around  the  arsenal  a  series 
of  earthworks  are  being  thrown  up,  and  near  by  is  Fort 
Williams,  which,  when  finished,  will  enable  us  to  hold  this 
place  with  comparatively  few  men.  Butler,  Banks,  or 
somebody  else,  has  been  and  gone  and  done  it.  Negro 
regiments  are  actually  being  gathered  together  at  the 
arsenal.  If  they  are  free,  why  not  let  them  fiykt  to  pre 
serve  that  freedom  ?  We  are  beginning  to  laugh  at  our 
selves,  that  we  ever  hesitated  in  this  matter. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  139 

Saving  the  lack  of  boards  for  tent-flooring,  we  are 
pretty  comfortable.  Lumber  is  hard  to  get  at  it  here,  and 
many  have  found  a  better  quality  than  that  usually  fur 
nished  by  the  government,  though  some  dismantled 
houses  may  bear  testimony  to  the  violation  of  orders. 
Mahogany  is  a  tropical  product,  and  we  find  it  makes  good 
tables,  shelves,  and  floors.  For  a  day  or  two  we  could 
getno  bread,  and  the  quartermaster  had  to  receive  some 
fervent  blessings.  Get  soldiers  away  from  the  refine 
ments  of  life  and  doom  them  to  camp  inactivity,  and  they 
present  to  view  many  evidences  of  selfishness.  Some  are 
born  grumblers  ;  and  some  who  never  fed  themselves  at 
home  so  well  as  Uncle  Sam  now  feeds  them,  make  it  a 
rule  to  snarl  at  the  quantity  and  quality  of  their  food ; 
while  those  who  left  homes  of  luxury,  take  to  army  fare  as 
if  they  had  been  born  to  it.  Save  fresh  beef,  which  finds 
its  way  only  to  soldiers  in  the  hospital,  we  are  as  well  fed 
as  at  Camp  Briggs.  Recently,  dried  peaches  were  issued 
in  lieu  of  rice.  Some,  greedily  devouring  all  they  could 
get  thereof,  would  go  round  complaining  that  it  was  not 
so  bulky  and  nutritious  as  rice.  We  used  to  worry, 
ourselves;  now,  we  let  them  complain.  True,  we  at 
times  have  pork  and  salt  beef,  belonging  to  the  order  of 
"  animated  nature,"  and  it  is  amusing  to  see  how  differ 
ently  different  persons  receive  it.  Some  will  cry  out, 
"  Look  here,  cook,  it's  no  use  of  carrying  that  to  the  cook 
house  ;  put  it  down  and  give  me  a  whip,  and  I  will  drive  it 
for  you  ;"  while  others  will  curse  as  thieves  all  connected 
with  the  government.  I  used  to  set  down  the  whole  race 
of  quartermasters  and  commissaries  as  vampires  on  the 
soldiers,  and  give  unlimited  credit  to  all  the  complaining 
letters  from  the  army.  That  day  is  past,  for  I  know  that 
some  of  our  well-fed  regiments  are  not  chary  of  their  cen 
sures.  Having  nothing  to  read,  often  nothing  to  do,  their 
god  is  their  belly,  "  and  what  we  shall  eat  and  what  we 
shall  drink"  the  great  questions  of  their  lives.  We  need 
active  war  to  drive  back  this  murmuring  devil,  and  to 


140  LIFE    WITH    THE    FOllTY-XIXTII 

evoke  our  manliness  ami  heroism.  A  regimental  quarter 
master  has  hut  little  chance  to  defraud.  A  shrewd  com 
pany  commissary  knows  how  much  his  company  is  entitled 
to,  and  is  present  at  the  delivery  of  the  rations ;  so  that 
cheating  Itim  is  no  easy  work.  After  a  regiment  is  bri 
gaded,  the  medical  department  draws  for  the  sick,  so  that 
that  main  chance  of  stealing  is  not  open  to  the  quarter 
master.  When  you  rise  above  a  regiment,  quarter 
master  and  commissary  are  distinct  officers,  the  latter 
having  charge  of  eatables,  and  the  former  of  nearly  every 
other  kind  of  government  property.  •  Here  there  is  a 
field  for  peculation  ;  and  when  you  rise  higher  to  Division 
and  post-quartermasters  and  commissaries,  you  get  into  a 
region  where  fortunes  spring  up  almost  as  rapidly  as 
Jonah's  gourd,  especially  if  provost-marshals  form  a  part 
of  the  iniquitous  firm.  The  assertion  that  this  war  would 
have  been  closed  ere  this  had  officials  had  no  opportunity 
to  trade  in  sugar,  molasses,  and  cotton,  is  not  entirely  with 
out  foundation.  As  yet,  General  Ba  iks  has  kept  himself 
from  suspicion,  and  Butler  was  too  shrewd  to  do  any 
thing  that  his  enemies  could  get  hold  of;  but  certainly  his 
brother  owes  him  a  large  debt  of  gratitude  for  orders  that 
accidentally  made  him  a  millionnaire.  Witness  this  :  on 
reaching  New  Orleans,  Butler  prohibited  the  circulation 
of  the  notes  of  various  banks.  'Tis  said  that  the  brother 
bought  up  millions  of  these  notes  for  a  mere  song.  Soon 
after,  an  order  was  issued  requiring  the  notes  of  these 
same  banks  to  be  received  as  legal  tender,  "stating  that,  as 
the  people  had  received  them  in  good  faith,  it  was  no 
more  than  right  that  the  banks  should  redeem  them  to  the 
extent  of  the  gold  in  their  vaults  and  the  responsibilities 
of  the  stockholders.  You  see  the  point. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  141 


LETTER    XX. 

CAMP  BANKS,  BATON  ROUGE,  La.,  March  2,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

How  we  pity  you  poor  chilled  Northerners,  who  can 
see  nothing  but  snow,  and  hear  naught  but  the  rude 
blasts  of  Boreas,  while  we  gaze  on  green  grass,  soft  skies, 
budding  trees,  and  hear  the  cooings  of  birds  and  the  rip- 
plings  of  rivulets !  "  Ripplings  of  rivulets !"  I  must  take 
that  back,  for  I  don't  want  my  imagination  to  be  so  de 
veloped  under  a  Southern  sun  as  to  produce  a  result 
which  you,  in  the  unromantic  North,  would  call  "  lying." 
There  are  no  "  rivulets"  here,  and  of  course  the  ripplings 
were  not  in  my  eye  ;  but  somehow  there  is  such  a  charrn 
about  our  life,  such  an  actual  luxury  in  mere  living,  that 
what  you  have  not  in  reality,  you  have  in  imagination. 
Rivulets,  indeed !  nothing  like  them,  except  muddy  ba 
yous,  which  are  so  still  and  sluggish  that  I  take  much 
credit  to  myself  for  having  even  imagined  "  rivulets." 
It  takes  hills  and  stones  for  "  rippling  rivulets."  As  for 
hills,  we  have  nothing  but  river  cliffs  and  stones — I  have 
yet  to  see  the  first  stone  in  Louisiana.  But  it  is  glorious  li v- 
ing  here  in  March.  Throw  yourself  down,  half  in  shade 
and  half  in  sun,  and  forget  your  pores  are  drinking  in 
fever,  and  you  are  almost  ready  to  perpetually  divorce 
you  from  the  rigid  North.  We  have  had  a  few  "  right 
smart"  cool  days,  and  one  or  two  marked  with  a  chill 
damp,  that  enables  you  to  understand  why  the  half- 
clothed  African  thinks  thatTeven  this  is  too  far  North  for 
his  race,  and  you  no  longer  wonder  at  the  many  dropsi 
cal  specimens  you  meet,  the  result  of  cold  ;  but  generally 
speaking,  we  have  had  weather  that  only  needs  perma- 


142  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

nence  to  make  life  a  physical  paradise.  It  is  worth  a  few 
hours — mark,  I  don't  say  (/<///* — of  sea-sickness,  to  spend 
one  of  our  mornings  in  these  grand  woods.  Wood  here 
must  be  unusually  tough,  for  great  oak-branches  shoot 
out  from  the  trunk  from  sixty  to  eighty  feet,  almost  hor- 
t'::»/if<(//i/.  Pendent  from  every  branch,  for  eight  or  ten 
feet,  is  the  thick,  rich  moss,  or  tillandsia,  which  gives  to 
the  forests  such  a  weird,  antique  look.  Get  in  deep 
enough  to  shut  out  sights  and  sounds  of  men,  and  you 
can  fancy  yourself  an  inhabitant  of  the  antediluvian 
world.  Imagine  these  branches,  with  their  parasites  on 
either  side  of  a  stream,  down  which  you  are  gently 
gliding,  and  you  will  agree  with  Epicurus  that  living 
means  simply  enjoying.  Some  of  these  woodland  views 
awaken  in  you  a  protest  against  all  activity ;  and  when, 
imbued  with  the  delicious  torpor,  you  return  to  meet 
cool-eyed  firm-nerved  Northerners,  you  know  that  they 
must  master  the  denizens  of  such  scenes. 

We  make  use  of  this  fine  weather  to  do  up  our  wash 
ing.  I  have  been  washing  some  flannel,  and  wringing 
out  the  same.  I  don't  think  I  will  ever  complain  of  the 
quantity  or  quality  of  another  wash-day  dinner  ;  and,  as 
soon  as  I  get  home,  my  women  folks  must  have  a  clothes- 
wringer.  Cook  and  wash  and  mend  for  yourself  a  few 
months,  and  you  will  never  again  think  woman's  work 
is  easy,  and  that  you  could  do  the  same  in  half  the  time 
she  takes.  If  our  washing  does  not  result  in  whitening 
our  clothes,  'it,  at  least,  purifies  them,  and  stays  the  de 
velopment  of  a  peculiar  class  of  rebels,  who  have  al 
ready  been  sufficiently  troublesome. 

If  the  paymaster  should  visit  us,  we  could  for  a  while 
vary  our  diet,  and  only  for  "  a  while,"  with  steak  at  fifty, 
butter  at  sixty,  cheese  at  forty  cents  per  pound;  eggs  at 
a  dollar  a  dozen,  and  other  edibles  in  proportion.  Speak 
ing  of  these  things  reminds  me  of  a  clean,  cool,  spacious 
market-house,  which  I  thought  was  no  longer  used,  for  I 
never  saw  a  speck  of  food  in  it.  They  do  their  market- 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  143 

ing  here  between  daybreak  and  sunrise.  They  commence 
by  drinking  drip-coffee  from  cups  about  the  size  of  those 
we  once  used  when  soldiering  was  only  playing,  for 
which  they  pay  the  reasonable  sum  of  ten  cents  each. 
Vegetables  are  not  weighed  or  measured,  but  sold,  by 
the  plateful,  while  beef-steak  does  not  refer  to  any  par 
ticular  parts  of  the  defunct  animal,  but  rather  to  the 
whole  carcass,  finding  it,  as  they  do,  from  the  neck  to  the 
tail,  and  selling  it  for  from  twenty-five  to  fifty  cents  per 
pound.  Men  who  have  graduated  on  hard  bread  may 
attack  these  steaks  with  some  hope  of  ultimate  success, 
but  I  could  hardly  recommend  the  business  to  those  who 
have  not  cut  their  eye-teeth.  Captain  Morey  has  been 
to  New  Orleans  and  brought  back  with  him  our  ranges. 
He  has  been  very  kind  to  his  men,  but  I  doubt  if  he  ever 
did  so  kind  a  deed  before.  Instead  of  all  bread,  we  draw 
part  flour,  and  visions  of  slap-jacks  and  sirup  once  more 
rise  before  us. 

"  Drill"  means  work  now/  The  company-drill  in  the 
morning,  and  the  brigade-drill  in  the  afternoon,  fill  up 
nearly  six  hours  of  the  day,  and  the  boys  wilt  under  it. 
They  have  been  in  the  habit  of  having  their  systems 
locked  up  with  the  cold  till  May ;  and  this  early  thawing 
out  produces  "  Spring  fever,"  accompanied  with  much  of 
diarrhoea  and  some  symptoms  of  typhoid.  We  report  one 
hundred  and  fifteen  sick,  few  of  them  seriously  ill,  while 
the  great  majority  are  well  enough  to  stay  in  their 
"  quarters."  Poison  lurks  in  the  smile  of  beauty.  Throw 
yourself  down  on  the  ground,  though  in  full  glare  of  the 
sun,  keep  up  this  habit,  and  you  do  not  contract  a  cold 
as  in  the  North,  but  a  fever.  The  ground-damp  is  our 
enemy.  It  is  hard  to  convince  the  tired  soldier  that  there 
is  danger,  ay,  death,  in  lying  down  on  that  sun-heated, 
dry  ground.  He  believes  it  when  he  finds  his  last  fare 
well  to  loved  ones  was  final.  Bad  air,  bad  water,  kills 
many,  but  the  earth-damp  is  the  one  great  scourge. 
Breathe  poison,  eat  poison,  and  the  lungs,  the  stomach, 


144  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

with  the  aid  of  open  pores,  will  soon  throw  it  off;  but  ab 
sorb  poison  through  the  pores,  and  a  visit  to  the  hospi 
tal  is  almost  inevitable.  \Ve  left  Nelson  Webster,  of 
Company  E,  at  Carrollton,  prostrate  with  typhoid  fever. 
He  died  there  on  the  20th  of  February,  aged  twenty- 
one  years.  He  was,  perchance,  the  stoutest  man  in  the 
regiment,  but  of  his  company  he  is  the  first  to  die,  and 
of  the  regiment  the  seventh.  These  stalwart  ones  break, 
they  cannot  bend.  He  has  two  brothers  in  the  army.  A 
nice  man,  a  good  soldier,  a  young  husband,  has  gone. 
Aged  parents,  a  lonely  wife,  will  mourn  for  him,  and  learn 
as  we  but  faintly  can,  the  terrible  expensiveness  of  war. 
Happy,  if  they  can  so  scan  the  glory  of  the  Wood-bought 
future  as  to  say,  "  This  war  pays." 

We  are  anxiously  waiting  for  a  mail  from  Berkshire. 
"Waiting  for  letters"  has  a  world  of  meaning  now. 
When  the  first  mail  comes,  we  will  seem  nearer  home. 
Now,  there  are  the  two  thousand  unbridycd  miles  be 
tween  us  and  loved  ones.  As  many  of  us  are  moneyless, 
and  as  stamps  cannot  be  had  for  love  or  money,  we  can 
appreciate  the  kindly  wisdom  of  Congress  in  allowing 
staff-officers  to  frank  our  letters,  leaving  the  recipients  to 
pay  the  postage.  Newsboys  bring  us  New  York  papers, 
for  which  they  only  charge  twenty-five  cents.  With  so 
little  to  read,  paying  a  quarter  for  a  paper  ensures  such 
a  reading  as  newspapers  seldom  get. 

I  attended  religious  services  at  the  camp  of  the  Forty- 
eighth  Massachusetts  last  Sunday.  Few  were  present, 
and  on  the  parade-ground  a  battery  was  firing.  Strange 
thundering  of  God's  truth  and  cannon  !  Not  so  strange 
if  we  keep  in  mind  that  the  "  truth"  is  the  parent  of  the 
"  cannons."  Those  cannon  would  have  remained  in  the 
ore-bed,  had  men  been  willing  to  bury  truth.  Now, 
Truth  seeks  to  send  her  message  by  cannon  where  she  can 
not  send  it  without. 

We  have  established  a  Masonic  Lodge,  so  as  to  make 
Louisiana  seem  as  much  like  home  as  possible.  Captain 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEEES.  145 

Morey  is  W.  M. ;  Lieutenant  Kniffin,  S.  W  ;  Captain 
Train,  J.  W. ;  Lieutenant  Tucker,  Secretary ;  Major  Plun- 
kett,  Treasurer  ;  Colonel  Sunnier,  S.  D.;  and  Quartermas 
ter  Brewster,  J.  D.  It  is  called  "  Berkshire  Camp  Army 
Lodge."  We  meet  in  the  Masonic  Hall,  where  we  hope  to 
Lave  many  pleasant  "  communications,"  and  properly  in 
duct  candidates  into  those  mysteries  which  have  never 
made  any  worse,  but  have  benefited  many.  Once  get  in 
to  a  Lodge,  and  you  have  the  best  style  of  equality.  The 
majoiv  general  enters  with  out  noticing  you,  and  perchance 
does  not  notice  you  after  you  leave  the  hall;  but  while  in 
the  hall,  all  distinctions  are  merged  in  the  common  title 
"  Brother,"  and  his  excellency  may  find  the  private  his 
masonic  superior,  and  respectfully  salute  him  as  such. 
Masonry  says: 

"  The  rank  is  but  the  guinea's  stamp, 
A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that," 

Thehegira  of  females  has  placed  the  negroes  in  com 
fortable,  well-furnished  houses.  As  confiscated  property, 
who  has  a  better  right  to  it  than  they  ?  They  certainly 
hugely  enjoy  it.  They  occupy  the  houses  with  the  con 
sent  of  the  provost-marshal.  Many  of  the  men  are  in  the 
government  employ;  some  keep  restaurants,  while  the 
women  board  officers  for  ten  dollars  a  week,  and  wash 
clothes  for  a  dollar  per  dozen.  The  heavens  drop  fatness 
on  them. 

Last  Sunday,  I  attended  the  Methodist  church.  The 
negroes  fitted  up  the  basement  for  their  own  use  ;  but, 
now,  in  the  absence  of  the  whites,  they  worship  in  the 
body  of  the  church.  The  pastor  of  the  church  is  some 
where  within  the  rebel  lines.  I  went  into  the  Sunday- 
school.  A  touching  scene  it  was,  to  see  those  who  could 
barely  spell  teaching  those  who  know  not  the  merest 
rudiments  of  learning.  I  saw  in  it  a  race,  a  nation  strug 
gling  up  to  intelligence  and  nationality.  The  gate  of 
education,  so  long  ruthlessly  closed  against  them,  was 
7 


1-13  i.H'K    WITH    THE    FOUTY-MMH 

gradually  being  opened.  Once  open,  they  step  into  that 
temple  whose  inspiration  is  free1  loin.  Happy  for  them, 
they  enter  it  through  the  Gospel  gate,  that  the  light  which 
will  show  them  their  wrongs  will  also  show  them  the 
Great  Sufferer,  who  exclaimed,  " Father!  foryice  them, 
they  know  not  what  they  do."  Well  for  the  slaves,  well 
for  the  nation,  well  indeed  for  the  oppressors,  that  the 
enlightening  of  the  bond  is  in  the  hands  of  C/trixtian 
teachers  !  We  need  never  fear  a  repetition  of  the  hor 
rors  of  St.  Domingo,  unless  the  slaveo.-racy  shall  madly 
attempt  the  re-enslavement  of  the  enfranchised. 

Seeing  an  intelligent  mulatto  woman,  I  asked  her  if 
certain  white  children  were  really  negroes.  She  said  they 
were,  and  then  freely  spoke  of  the  intercourse  between 
the  whites  and  blacks.  "You  can  see,"  said  she,  "by 
my  color,  that  my  mother  was  not  a  true  woman,  but  she 
warned  me,  and  by  God's  grace  I  have  been  preserved 
from  the  horrors  of  prostitution."  Trained  up  in  the 
family  of  a  pious  Northern  Presbyterian  minister,  who 
obtained  his  slaves  by  marringe,  yet  treated  them  like  im 
mortal  beings,  she  had  many  advantages,  and  saw  but 
the  bright  side  of  the  curse,  if  a  curse  can  have  a  bright 
si>!<'.  Vet,  her  statements  but  increased  its  heinousness. 
Often  women  who  were  members  of  the  church,  had  to 
be  expelled  for  adultery.  The  ladies  of  the  South  were 
well  aware  of  their  husbands'  unfaithfulness,  and  it  was 
no  uncommon  thing  for  these  mothers  to  be  whipped  to 
satisfy  the  rage  and  jealousy  of  their  mistresses.  She  al 
so  stated  that,  until  a  few  years  past,  the  negroes  were 
denied  religious  instruction.  I  guess  she  spoke  truly,  for 
I  have  heard  them  again  and  again,  in  prayers  and  testi 
monies,  thank  God  thaj  now  they  were  privileged  to  wor 
ship  him  with  none  to  molest  or  to  make  them  afraid. 
Instead  of  spiritual  training  and  plantation  churches,  they 
were  whipped  for  holding  prayer-meetings  in  their  cab- 
iitd  compelled  to  pray  in  secret.  Thus  fades  away 
another  "  plantation  lie."' 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  147 

Wild  and  emotional  as  are  the  negroes  in  their  reli 
gious  meetings,  they  forget  not  that  politeness  which  forms 
so  prominent  a  part  of  their  nature.  If  they  leave  a  prayer 
meeting  before  its  close,  they  will  shake  hands  with 
the  preachers,  and  then  bow  alternately  to  the  men  and 
women,  bowing  to  their  own  sex  last.  Say  that  they 
chafe  not  at  their  fetters !  When  living  in  the  South, 
I  often  noticed  they  met  the  whites  moodily,  but  those  of 
their  own  color  with  a  politeness  bordering  on  the  ex 
travagant.  No  Frenchman  can  excel  the  darkey  beau  in 
grimaces  and  politeness,  but  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  that 
same  beau  would  pass  you  with  indifference  or  a  sullen 
courtesy. 

They  are  not  as  quiet  in  church  as  you  might  desire. 
If  they  want  to  leave  or  enter,  they  do  so  at  any  time 
during  "services,  save  the  service  of  prayer,  in  which  they 
all  kneel.  If  the  preacher  gets  up  the  u  rousements,"  they 
think  the  sermon  will  do  ;  but  the  prayer-meeting,  with 
its  singing  and  praying,  is  their  ideal  of  worship.  Here 
they  give  full  vent  to  their  mingled  excitement  and  devo 
tion,  by  shouting,  clapping  of  hands,  and  jumping.  Sol 
emn  and  grotesque  is  the  scene.  In  "the  regular  services 
the  preacher  reads  two  lines  of  the  hymn,  which,  when 
sung,  is  followed  by  reading  two  more,  and  so  on  till  that 
service  is  ended.  Unable  to  read,  and  few  having  hymn- 
books,  this  plan  secures  congregational  singing,  but  makes 
sad  havoc  with  the  music.  I  never  like  the  singing  of 
negroes.  They  rarely  rise  above  a  minor,  and  that  slow 
and  full  of  sadness.  In  their  prayer-meetings,  any  one 
can  start  a  hymn  of  his  own  choosing  ;  and  though  they 
frequently  grow  wild  and  excited  in  singing  it,  or  some 
impromptu  hymn,  it  is  more  a  loud  wail  than  a  burst  of 
joyous  melody.  Rely  on  it,  there  is  a  conscious  burden 
on  their  hearts.  They  are  gifted  in  prayer.  Passages  of 
the  truest  eloquence  could  be  culled  therefrom.  Often 
the  whole  audience  is  moved  with  a  seeming  joy  as  they 
praise  (rod  for  his  mercies,  but  that  joy 'does  not  spring 


148  I. II -'I-;    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

from  thanking  him  for  home,  wife,  children,  but  because 
lie  has  delivered  them  from  temptations  and  enabled  them 
\n  endure  sorrows.  It  is  a  immmj'nl  joy.  When  pray 
ing  about  their  enslaved  condition,  or  for  the  dying,  or 
for  the  salvation  of  poor  sinners,  they  unitedly  break  out 
into  the  most  plaintive  chorus  imaginable.  I  can't  de 
scribe  it,  but  to  my  dying  hour  I  shall  remember  it.  It 
seemed  like  the  incarnation  of  sadness  I  could  think 
of  nothing  but  a  mother  in  heaven  wailing  for  her 
I »*t  son.  Sometimes  it  would  come  from  the  lips  of  one 
or  two,  or,  as  all  were  united  in  sympathy,  it  would  spring 
spontaneously  from  all  in  complete  harmony,  making  roll 
ing  billows  of  oppressive  sadness.  "  Billows  of  sadness" 
si-cins  like  a  very  foolish  expression,  but  it  "did  appear  to 
UK-  as  if  every  heart  was  a  pool  of  grief,  and  that  some 
thought,  too  deep  for  tears,  had  merged  those  pools  into 
an  agitated  stream.  Almost  like  a'  nightmare  it  clings 
to  me,  ever  presenting  depths  of  sadness  and  resignation 
beyond  iny  conception. 

Negroes  are  dressy,  and  some  dress  in  good  taste. 
The  men  are  attired  as  poor  men  generally  are,  yet  all 
looked  clean,  and  some  aped  the  dandy  ;  while  the  negro 
guards,  clothed  in  their  new  uniforms,  with  bright  bay 
onets  at  their  side,  seemed  too  proud  and  happy  to  be 
dangerous.  Most  of  the  women  wear  turbans  of  Madras 
handkerchiefs,  and  wonderfully  becoming  they  are.  I 
saw  one  (woman  I  mean,  not  turban)  who  might  have  sat 
for  an  African  queen.  Many  of  the  mongrels  are  very 
beautiful  with  their  fine  hair,  straight  or  wavy,  and  thc-ir 
blue  or  dark  eyes,  always  soft  and  lustrous,  and  half  con 
cealed  by  the  long  lashes.  They  look  more  like  volup 
tuous  Italians  than  negroes.  A  Southern  gentleman  told 
me  that  they  are  more  docile  and  affectionate  than  the 
unmixed  negro,  and  less  hardy.  Mulattocs  in  the  North 
are  generally  scrofulous ;  not  so  here,  but  are  prone  to 
consumption.  He  said  they  were  generally  unchaste. 
Query  :  if  true,  is  that  the  result  of  their  physique,  or  of 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  149 

the  temptations  their  good  looks  invite  ?  I  think  the  lat 
ter,  for  he  did  not  include  the  men  in  his  assertion. 

Speaking  of  dress ;  it  puzzled  me  to  keep  from  laughing 
right  out  in  meeting,  when  some  jet-black  negress  would 
appear  surmounted  by  a  white  bonnet,  and  clothed  in 
white,  with  low  neck,  half  revealing  dim  charms,  and 
bare  arms  finished  out  with  white-kid  gloves.  A  prom 
enade  on  Broadway  would  not  amuse  our  Yankee  gals 
half  so  much  as  to  attend  church  here.  They  would 
have  to  be  saturated  with  piety  and  propriety,  if  they 
kept  on  their  go-to-meeting  faces.  A  strange  race,  a  trop 
ical  race,  they  surely  are.  Get  accustomed  to  the  ex 
uberant,  grotesque  forms  of  beauty  Southern  nature 
presents,  and  you  begin  to  believe  that  the  negroes  dress 
properly  and  poetically. 

Lieutenant  Francis  arid  I  remained  after  the  services 
were  closed,  and  freely  talked  with  several  men  of  ma 
ture  age,  one  of  whom  was  the  lame  colored  preacher, 
who  gave  five  thousand  dollars  for  himself  and  family. 
He  earned  it  as  a  carter.  Another  one  paid  his  master 
eighteen  dollars  a  month  for  twenty-four  years,  to  privi 
lege  him  to  live  with  his  family.  Talking  about  the  ne 
gro's  inability  to  support  himself  was  a  broad  joke  to 
them.  Francis  told  them,  they  would  have  to  finish  the 
war.  "  That's  so,"  was  their  emphatic  response.  They 
realized  that  the  time  was  near  for  them  to  come  out  ac 
tively  on  our  side,  but  they  said  they  wanted  to  be  sure 
we  could  protect  them ;  for  those  who  had  favored  the 
Yankees  on  their  first  arrival,  fared  badly  when  the 
rebels  returned.  "  Make  us  sure  the  rebels  won't  come 
back,  and  we  be  left  alone,  and  we'll  do  our  part."  I 
thought  that  was  cute  enough  for  a  prudent  white  man. 
When  the  lieutenant  read  to  them  of  the  bravery  of 
Colonel  Higginson's  negro  soldiers,  they  were  glad, 
but  not  surprised ;  but  they  were  surprised  when  he  as 
sured  them  that,  in  Massachusetts,  the  negro  had  equal 
rights  with  the  white  man,  and  was  as  eligible  to  any 


]r>0  LIFE    WITH    TIP]    FOKTT-N'IXTIT 

office.  While  talking  with  tlicm,  it  seemed  like  profan 
ing  God's  workmanship  to  doubt  the  ability  of  their  race 
to  properly  enjoy  freedom.  Carlyle  asserts  the  divine 
right  of  man  to  any  position  he  can  possibly  till.  This 
war  latently  asserts  this  of  the  African. 

We  have  two  negro  regiments  here,  and  Colonel  Sum- 
ner,  no  negrophobist,  says  they  can  beat  the  Forty-ninth 
drilling.  We  have  not  seen  our  superior  in  this  depart 
ment,  so  that  is  praise  enough.  I  saw  them  on  parade. 
Great  lusty  fellows,  with  breasts  like  women's  ;  they  take 
us  down  as  far  as  brute  strength  is  concerned.  When  I 
contrasted  their  elastic,  vigorous  steps  with  our  wan 
looks  and  increasing  debility,  I  felt  that  they  had  not 
been  recruited  any  too  soon.  Dressed  in  full  uniform,  they 
made  a  fine  appearance,  and  marched  as  one  man.  In 
mere  drill  they  must  beat  the  whites;  for  "  time,"  which 
is  so  important  an  item  in  drilling,  is  a  universal  gift  to 
them.  Their  docility,  their  habits  of  unquestioning  obe 
dience,  pre-eminently  tit  them  for  soldiers.  To  a  negro 
an  order  means  obedience,  in  spirit  as  well  as  letter.  In 
marching,  "  eyes  front,"  keeping  the  eyes  fixed  so  as  to 
strike  the  ground  about  fifteen  paces  straight  ahead,  en- 
Mi  ring  head  and  shoulders  carried  square,  is  the  direction. 
AVatch  white  soldiers  when  marching  through  the  streets, 
and  you  will  find  many  disobeying  that  order.  These 
negroes  could  hardly  have  told  you  that  there  were  any 
sidewalks.  Properly  officered,  and  they  will  make  the 
best  soldiers  in  America.  As  an  intelligent  Southerner 
said,  "  Your  boys  do  not  know  what  they  are  fighting  for ; 
some  are  afraid  they  are  fighting  for  the  darkey,  and 
some  are  afraid  they  are  not  fighting  for  him.  The  Con 
stitution  and  the  Union,  as  a  rallying-ery,  is  weak,  for  it 
is  not  understood.  Our  boys  have  hate,  at  least,  to 
nerve  them.  Yours  have  not  even  that  strength  ;  and  I 
have  always  contended  tli.it  interference  on  the  part  of 
England  or  France  would  hurt,  more  than  help,  the 
South^  for  it  would  give  you  an  earnestness,  a  vindic- 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  151 

tiveness,  that  you  now  lack."  These  remarks  are  perti 
nent,  but  they  do  not  apply  to  the  negroes.  They  know 
what  they  are  fighting  for.  They  know  they  are  burst 
ing  from  slavery  into  freedom ;  and  if  freedom  be  but 
dirnly  understood,  their  fears  teach  them  the  full  mean 
ing  of  slavery — teach  them  now  as  never  before.  Give 
them  officers  who  will  call  out  their  latent  manliness, 
who  will  work  on  their  religious  sensibilities,  rallying 
them  to  their  hopes  of  freedom,  and  you  can  carry  them 
nearer  the  gates  of  hell  than  any  regiment  of  whites. 
They  certainly  need  white  officers  for  a  while,  and  the  best 
of  officers,  too,  for  they  will,  like  children,  lean  much  on 
their  superiors.  Till  they  learn  to  respect  their  own  race 
more  than  they  do,  colored  officers  will  be  a  failure. 
Government  is  removing  the  few  who  have  been  appointed. 
Negroes  have  dash  about  them ;  more  than  we  have. 
"  Best  soldiers  in  America ;"  I  mean  it.  Take  North 
ern  soldiers,  the  equals,  perchance,  the  superiors  of  their 
officers  at  home,  and  they  see  those  officers  living  and 
treated  as  gentlemen,  while  they,  perchance  ,are  cleaning 
their  sinks,  and  doing  other  menial  duties.  Duties,  neces 
sary  duties  they  are,  but  it  requires  a  constant  summon 
ing  of  self-respect,  a  constant  recollection  of  the  dignity 
of  the  cause,  to  keep  them  from  underrating  themselves, 
and  from  believing  that  assertion,  so  often  used  by  the 
ignorant,  "A  private  is  no  better  than  a  dog."  Make 
such  men  corporals  and  sergeants,  and  while  they  gladly 
take  the  positions  to  secure  a  little  less  of  toil  and  ex 
posure,  they  are  insulted  if  you  think  that  such  petty  offi 
ces  dignify  them.  Not -so  with  the  negro.  Put  a  United 
States  uniform  on  his  back,  and  the  chattel  is  a  man. 
At  one  bound  he  springs  higher  than  if  one  of  our  pri 
vates  should  be  made  a  captain,  and  it  is  a  bound  to  man 
ly  self-respect.  You  can  see  it  in  his  look.  Between 
the  toiling  slave  and  the  soldier  is  a  gulf  that  nothing 
but  a  god  could  lift  him  over.  He  feels  it,  his  looks 
show  it.  See  him  on  guard.  He  is  erect,  not  slouching ; 


152  LIFE  wrrn  TTIE  FORTY-NINTH 

he  seems  to  say,  "I  nm  guarding  my  freedom  and  my  man 
hood."  Make  a  reasonable  excuse,  and  when  no  enemy  is 
near,  the  white  sentinel  may  pa^s  you,  but  the  negro  is 
deaf  to  all.  lie  obeys  his  orders  literally.  The  whole 
machinery  of  the  camp,  if  controlled  by  proper  officers, 
is  to  him  a  self-respect  developer.  Would  you  really 
bring  out  more  of  his  manhood,  give  him  a  little  power, 
make  him  corporal  or  sergeant,  and  he  may  strut  like  ji 
peacock,  but  he  is  nevertheless  more  of  a  man.  If  sell- 
respect,  increasing  self-respect,  is  a  source  of  strength, 
of  soldierly  excellence,  then  the  negro  soldier  will  sur 
pass  the  white  soldier.  On  the  field,  where  dash  may  be 
required,  he  will  have  no  superior  ;  but  when  call  is  made 
for  unflinching  courage,  where  there  is  no  excitement  to 
sustain,  nothing  but  the  firm  will,  he  will  show  that  he 
belongs  to  an  inferior  race.  That  does  not  degrade  him ; 
it  .is  only  putting  him  by  the  side  of  the  French,  the  Ital 
ian,  the  Spanish,  who,  tested  by  this,  must  yield  the  palm 
to  the  American,  the  English,  the  German ;  and  tested 
by  this,  all  must  yield  to  the  sons  of  New  England. 

Negro  soldiery  is  an  experiment,  I  grant,  but  I  think 
an  experiment  full  of  promise.  I  am  glad  that  Massa 
chusetts  is  raising  a  regiment  of  free  negroes.  They 
need  elevation  more  than  their  slave-brothers,  for,  save  ;i 
greater  knowledge  of  the  vices  of  civilization,  they  arc 
their  inferiors.  Social  caste  has  degraded  them  more 
than  slavery  has  degraded  the  bond. 

I  tell  you,  my  friend,  this  war  means  Negro  equality. 
Don't  be  startled,  and  conjure  up  a  mulatto  nation  as  the 
result  of  general  amalgamation.  TJiat  is  not  "  negro  equal 
ity."  If  any  man  wants  a  black  wife,  let  him  have  one  ;  it 
is  only  a  matter  of  taste.  "  Negro  equality"  is  not  social 
equality,  for  there  is  no  such  thing,  even  among  whites. 
There  are  and  always  will  be  classes  in  society.  It  is  not 
political  equality.  Minors,  women,  many  foreigners,  do 
not  vote,  and  it  would  be  unwise  to  allow  the  negroes  to 
vote  until  they  are  more  enlightened.  Negro  equality  is 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  153 

simply  the  right  to  make  the  most  of  himself,  the  right  to 
secure  any  position  he  can  fill.  It  means  making  a  man 
of  him,  and  letting  him  alone.  Give  him  free  access  to 
schools,  churches,  cars,  lectures,  ultimately  the  polls  and 
offices,  and  to  whatever  society  he  can  find  access.  I 
know  I  always  revolt  at  shaking  hands  with  a  darkey,  or 
sitting  by  him,  but  it  is  a  prejudice  that  should  shame 
me.  Southerners  don't  feel  it,  Europeans  don't  feel  it, — 
strange  that  it  should  be  confined  to  Northerners.  If  a 
negro  can  find  admittance  into  Upper  Tendom ;  if  he  can 
secure  a  college  professorship ;  if  the  people  want  him  to 
be  Governor  or  President ;  why,  my  "  negro  equality"  is 
to  simply  say  "  Amen !"  If,  with  all  my  start,  he  out 
runs  me,  and  secures  earth's  honors,  I  say  let  him  do  so. 
His  superiority  will  not  make  me  really  inferior.  Negro 
equality  exists  in  Europe.  The  law  or  popular  tyranny 
there  does  not  discriminate  between  him  and  a  white 
man.  So  let  it  be  the  world  over.  So  it  will  be,  ere 
long,  in  America.  When  they  have  learned  to  respect 
their  own  race,  we  will  have  in  the  army  negro  officers. 
Now  if  they  should  signally  honor  and  benefit  the  coun 
try,  it  will  not  do  to  drive  them  out  of  halls,  churches, 
or  from  public  tables ;  neither  will  it  do  to  send  such 
men  down  into  the  servants'  quarters,  if  they  should  hap 
pen  to  enter  your  dining-room  while  you  are  eating. 
Make  them  free,  and  you  have  got  to  grant  them  equal 
ity.  There  is  no  help  for  it,  and  the  sooner  we  get  rid 
of  our  foolish  prejudices,  the  better  for  us.  In  me,  those 
prejudices  are  very  strong.  I  can  fight  for  this  race  more 
easily  than  I  can  eat  with  them.  Their  mouths  are  gene 
rally  cleaner  and  purer  than  ours,  for  they  have  better 
teeth,  yet  it  was  a  hard  dose  for  me  to  drink  from  the 
same  glass  with  them  at  one  of  their  love-feasts.  South 
ern  children  grow  up,  play,  and  eat,  and  sleep  with  them, 
and  kiss  them,  and  those  children,  when  men,  may  give 
up  the  piaying  and  eating  part,  but  not  the  rest.  If  so 


1."  J  UK;.    \VITII    TIIK    FOIM  Y-MN  !  II 

iy  thousands  c:in  conquer  their  prejudices  by  tlieir 
lust,  certainly  principle  will  enable  us  to  at  least  toler 
ate  them. 

I  have  no  fears  about  the  manner  in  which  God  will 
settle  this  mailer.  Physically,  negroes  are  of  an  inferior 
or  weaker  race.  Like  the  Indians,  they  will  disappear 
from  before  us.  Outside  of  slavery,  they  do  not  increase 
nearly  so  rapidly  as  the  whites.  Inside  of  that  dark  prov 
ince  they  increase  wonderfully,  because  they  are  stimu 
lated  to  add  to  their  number  as  fast  as  possible.  When 
free,  each  would  ask,  "  Can  I  afford  to  marry  and  to  take 
charge  of  a  family  ?"  Many  would  answer,  "  no,"  and 
refrain  from  marriage.  As  slaves,  they  say,  "  Master 
must  take  care  of  us  and  of  our  children,"  and  children 
they  freely  beget.  In  the  competition  of  life  only  the 
strong,  the  healthy,  will  secure  wages  sufficient  to  sup 
port  families.  You  see  how  this  will  operate  to  lessen 
their  ratio  of  increase.  It  has  done  so  in  the  North. 
Free  negroes  there  increase  less  rapidly  than  free  negroes 
in  the  South.  Fqr  many  years  they  will  add  greatly  to 
their  number  in  the  Southern  States,  but  their  ratio  of 
increase  will  grow  less  in  proportion  to  the  migration  of 
white  workingmen,  with  whom  they  will  have  to  com 
pete.  They  will  fade  from  before  us  ;  and  if  white  men, 
capable  of  laboring  in  Africa,  should  settle  there,  as 
foreigners  have  settled  here,  the  same  results  would  be 
produced.  The  strong  must  rule.  They  need  not  o/> 
press. 

In  the  mean  time,  while  elevating  themselves  to  the 
condition  of  freemen,  and  being  prepared  as  missionaries 
to  the  inhabitants  of  tropical  climes,  they  should  have 
our  sympathy.  We  all  admit  that  they  are  human — if 
we  deny  them  all  the  virtues  of  humanity,  we  attribute 
to  them  all  its  vices.  It  is  the  merest  balderdash  to  say 
that  they  are  too  lazy  to  support  themselves.  I  know 
they  are  lazy.  The  example  of  the  whites  and  the  cli- 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  155 

mate  make  them  so.  For  nine  months  in  the  year,  men 
living  in  this  section  must  be  lazy.  Every  action  will 
.demand  an  effort.  I  am  sure  w-e,  placed  in  their  position, 
would  make  as  few  efforts  as  possible.  Hunger  will  be 
stronger  than  indolence.  Give  them  the  pecuniary,  so 
cial,  and  mental  stimulants  that  have  made  us  what  we 
are,  and  they  will  follow  closely  on  our  heels.  In  strong 
intellectual  powers,  they  will  never  equal  the  Anglo-Saxon 
and  Teutonic  races.  Who  do  ?  Do  the  Irish,  Spanish, 
Italian,  Portuguese  ?  In  the  sensuous,  and  I  use  that  in 
its  highest  meaning,  they  will  surpass  us.  In  music,  ora 
tory,  painting,  fine  arts,  they  will  lead  most  of  the  nations 
of  the  earth.  Had  we  been  crushed  for  centuries  as  they 
have  been,  we  might  have  made  greater  resistance,  but, 
ceasing  to  resist,  we  would  have  sunk  lower  than  the} 
have  done.  There  is  a  national  elasticity  about  them. 
Soon  adapting  themselves  to  slavery,  they  will  be  easily 
adapted  to  freedom.  We  have  ceased  looking  on  them 
as  fools,  and  give  them  credit  for  much  smartness,  mingled 
with  a  good  deal  of  lo*w  cunning.  A  great  work  is  before 
them — carving  out  a  nationality.  Ilemember,  they  have 
no  storehouse  of  historic  recollections.  They  can  find 
nothing  in  the  history  of  their  last  fifteen  hundred  years 
to  inspire  them.  We  have  Plymouth  Rock,  Bunker 
Hill ;  we  have  Washington  and  a  host  of  worthies,  each 
an  inspiration  to  noble  deeds.  Take  all  these  away  and 
substitute  slavery,  and  we  would  gather  no  strength  from 
our  past  but  vengeance.  Were  they  a  ferocious  race,  that 
strength  would  ere  this  have  opened  rivers  of  blood. 
Let  this  speak :  "  Every  man  presenting  himself  to  be  re 
cruited,  strips  to  the  skin,  to  be  surveyed  by  the  surgeon. 
Not  one  in  fifteen  is  free  from  the  marks  of  severe  lash 
ing.  More  than  half  are  rejected  because  of  disability, 
arising  from  lashing  with  whips  and  the  biting  of  dogs 
on  their  calves  and  thighs.  It  is  frightful.  Hundreds  of 
them  have  welts  on  their  backs  as  large  as  one  of  your 


156  MFK    WITH    Till:    FolITY-NINTH 

largest  fingers."  Women's  persons  would  show  marks 
of  the  same  brutality.  The  war  did  not  come  any  too 
soon.  The  concentrated  agony  of  a  million  bleeding 
hearts,  is  Freedom's  ransom  price.  She  was  fettered 
in  the  house  of  her  friends.  As  she  goes  forth  on  her 
glad  mission,  out  of  the  agony  comes  a  voice,  "  It  is 
finished." 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLTJNTEEES.  157 


LETTER   XXI. 

BANKS,  BA 

March  13,  1863,  9  P.  M. 


CAMP  BANKS,  BATON  EOUGE,  LA.,  ) 


MY  DEAK  L. : 

Here  wo  are  all  ready  to  march  on  Port  Hudson  at  a 
moment's  notice.  Last  Monday  morning,  about  1  o'clock, 
we  were  warned  to  prepare  for  a  march.  Our  wedge 
tents,  with  all  dress-coats  and  superfluous  baggage,  have 
been  stored  in  the  arsenal  buildings,  and  so  we  are  learn 
ing  how  much  comfort  can  be  found  in  two  pieces  of  cot 
ton-cloth,  about  five  by  six  feet,  buttoned  together  over  a 
ridge  pole,  without  any  ends,  called  shelter-tents.  True, 
our  six-footers  have  to  double  up  their  knees,  otherwise 
their  pedal  extremities  will  be  unsheltered,  but  we  find 
much  more  comfort  in  them  than  you  would  suppose. 
Two  occupy  one  of  these  tents,  and  in  marching  each 
man  carries  half  a  tent.  It  rained  hard  on  Tuesday  night, 
yet,  with  rubber  blankets  to  piece  out  with,  we  kept  dry, 
but  I  fear  this  frosty  night  will  try  our  patience  and 
make  us  vote  shelter  tents  a  lie.  Frosty  nights,  foggy 
mornings,  and  hot  days,  put  us  in  mind  of  a  Berkshire 
September. 

This  has  been  a  pleasurably  exciting  week.  We  are 
going  to  meet  the  foe,  and  that  brings  out  our  manhood. 
Waiting  five  days  is  very  tedious  work,  but  we  have  had 
reviews,  by  General  Banks,  of  almost  all  the  brigades  and 
divisions  in  the  army,  to  relieve  the  tedium.  I  know  lit 
tie  about  tactics,  but  I  do  know  no  regiment  appeared  to 
better  advantage  on  review  than  the  Forty-ninth.  Banks 
looks  the  soldier.  He  is  a  splendid  horseman.  The  re 
viewing  general  remains  uncovered  as  the  colors  are  borne 
by,  which  are  lowered  or  dipped  in  his  honor.  Now 
there's  some  poetry  about  that. 


153  LIFE    WITH    TIIK    FOKTY-MMil 

Some  of  the  brigades  are  oft'.  We  shall  march  about 
twenty  thousand  strong.  The  Forty-ninth  will  send  s. 
hundred  and  thirty-three  men;  one  hundred  andthirtv- 
ono  sick,  of  whom  lifiy-t  ;j«'  are  on  light  duty,  \\ill  he 
behind  to  aid  in  garrisoning  the  ar>e  ;al.  JJumor  h:is  it 
that,  General  Foster,  from  North  Carolina,  with  thirty 
thousand  men,  is  coming  up  the  river.  I  fear  that  it  is 
too  good  to  be  true.  As  most  of  the  boys  have  turned 
in  for  the  night,  I  presume  we  will  not  start  before  morn 
ing  ;  and  as  the  contingencies  of  battle  may  prevent  me 
writing  you  again,  I  will  now  post  you  as  to  matters  and 
events  up  to  date. 

On  Saturday,  the  Vth,  we  expected  to  hear  the  first 
gun  of  our  campaign.  Seventy  wagons,  two  pieces  of 
artillery,  and  some  cavalry  came  along,  and  we  f<'ll  into 
line.  We  knew  we  were  after  forage,  and  understood 
there  was  a  strong  probability  of  meeting  the  foe. 
Through  the  thick  Louisiana  mud,  which  is  mud  indeed, 
we  pressed  our  way  onward.  So  early  in  March,  yet  the 
heat  was  so  great  that  some  fell  out  of  the  ranks.  We 
reached  an  extensive  sugar  establishment  and  halted*. 
The  teams  began  to  load  up  with  wood;  Dr.  Lacock,  the 
owner  thereof,  rode  back  with  our  colonel  to  his  house 
and  we  knew  that  he  professed  to  be  Union,  because  of 
the  thousands  of  hogsheads  of  sugar  and  molasses  we 
were  forbidden  to  enjoy  any  part.  The  boys  were  mad; 
they  believed  the  darkeys,  who  said  that  Dr.  Lacock  was 
a  good  Union  man  when  there  tcere  no  rebels  about,  and 
they  could  not  well  see  how  a  good  Union  man  could  live 
five  miles  beyond  our  lines,  guerrillas  all  around  him,  in  a 
place  where  we  could  not  come  unless  armed  to  the  teeth, 
and  yet  his  fine  house  and  stock  and  crops  all  unmolested. 
It  was  a  great  humbug.  The  negroes  said  there  had 
been  some  rebels  near  that  morning,  and  when  we 
reached  the  sugar  house,  we  drew  up  in  a  military  style, 
to  guard  against  a  probable  attack  from  the  adjoining 
thick  woods.  Finding  that  attack  a  mere  myth,  some1 
deemed  it  advisable  to  look  into  the  secrets  of  sugar  ma- 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOL UNTKKES .  1  f>  9 

king.  Strange  how  curious  Yankees  are.  I  suppose  that 
secret  was  in  the  centre  of  a  great  hogshead  of  very  nice 
sugar,  for  I  found  a  great  many  soldiers  carefully  explo 
ring  there,  and,  fearing  they  would  not  have  time  sufficient, 
many  threw  away  their  rations  and  filled  their  haversacks, 
hoping  to  analyze  their  spoils  in  the  quiet  of  camp,  and 
be  rewarded  in  the  discovery  of  the  arcana.  Of  course, 
this  must  have  been  their  intention,  for  they  certainly 
would  not  have  violated  orders.  Some,  doubtless,  thought 
that  the  secret  was  in  the  molasses  barrel,  judging  by  the 
way  canteens  were  filled  with  that  saccharine  fluid; 
and  as  I  looked  upon  beards,  mahogany  stained  arid 
powdered  with  a  rich  yellow  powder,  I  concluded  some 
thought  the  surest  way  of  getting  at  it,  was  to  try  the 
sense  of  taste.  Thus  sweetly  engaged,  we  were  oblivious 
to  all  care  of  the  rebels,  when  some  dignitary  of  the 
quartermaster  department  accosted  us  in  language  more 
forcible  than  polite,  and  so,  we  concluded  to  abandon  our 
search  and  fell  into  the  ranks,  looking  so  innocent,  that 
no  one  would  have  thought  we  had  confiscated  the  sugar 
and  molasses  of  a  "  good  Union  man."  Over  the  road, 
which  had  become  almost  dusty,  we  wended  our  way  to 
camp,  voting  all  such  foraging  expeditions  a  bore,  and  be 
wailing  the  waste  of  money  spent  for  that  wood  as  if  it 
were  from  our  own  pockets.  Now,  we  begin  to  see  why 
ivood  and  not  sugar  was  sought  after.  It  was  to  enable 
the  gunboats  to  operate  against  Port  Hudson.  Capture 
that  stronghold  and  we  can  settle  the  mooted  question  of 
Dr.  Lacock's  loyalty,  and  perchance  transfer  his  delecta 
ble  stores  to  our  commissary  department. 

Though  not  fully  acquainted  with  the  strength  of  the 
enemy's  works  at  Port  Hudson,  we  know  enough  to  con 
vince  us  that  there  is  serious  work  before  us,  or,  to  use 
camp  slang,  that  "  we  are  going  to  have  a  dusty  hunt." 
In  that  work  some  of  us  will  fall.  Ere  another  week 
shall  have  passed  away,  we  will  have  veterans'  experi 
ence,  and  perchance  the  Forty-ninth  may  be  allied  to  the 


ICO  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

pride  of  Berkshire  by  many  a  bloody  grave.  Without 
any  i-xaggerati<m,  we  are  eager  for  the  fray.  We  came 
to  do  the  work  of  soldiers.  It  is  hard  to  think  that  fight 
ing  is  not  a  part  of  that  work.  Young  hearts  find  it 
easier  to  "do"  than  to  "suffer."  "Learn  to  labor  and 
to  wait,"  is  no  easy  task.  While  some  eagerness  to  meet, 
the  foe  is  manifested,  there  is  no  bravado.  We  go  to  a 
stern  duty,  and  though  martial  pride  duly  influences  us, 
yet  the  thought  "  it  is  our  duty "  is  our  main  source  of 
strength.  Our  faces  are  not  blanched,  but  I  doubt  not 
there  are  many  timid  hearts  among  us.  Timidity,  fear, 
is  not  cowardice.  Said  Wellington,  as  he  saw  a  man  pale 
as  a  corpse,  marching  steadily  on  in  a  forlorn  hope, 
"  There  goes  a  brave  man  ;  he  knows  his  danger  and  i 
it."  Cowardice  is  the  shrinking  from  duty  through  fear. 
The  strong  will  makes  the  brave  man,  and  when  that  will 
is  stiffened  by  a  manly  pride,  and,  above  all,  by  a  sense  of 
duty,  the  brave  is  elevated  to  the  hero. 

"  The  bravo  man  is  not  he  who  feels  no  fear, 
For  that  were  stupid  and  irrational, 
But  he  whose  noble  soul  its  fear  subdues, 
And  bravely  dares  the  danger  nature  shrinks  from." 

Danger  faces  us.  We  know  nothing  about  the  land 
defences  of  Port  Hudson,  save  that  there  are  series  of 
earth- works,  defended  by  over  twenty  thousand  men. 
They  ought  to  repel  three  times  their  number.  Cer 
tainly  we  have  not  nearly  enough  men.  I  doubt  that 
Banks  has  forty  regiments  in  his  whole  department. 
They  will  not  average  seven  hundred  and  fifty  men. 
Many  of  these  are  cooks,  teamsters,  &c.,  who  do  imi 
count  in  the  field.  If  the  fleet  fail,  we  are  incompetent 
to  do  the  work  alone.  As  a  river  defence,  Port  Hudson 
is  more  formidable  than  Vicksburg,  for  the  river  there 
makes  a  right  angle,  exposing  any  passing  ship  to  the 
uninterrupted  range  of  seven  batteries  for  five  miles. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  161 

While  waiting  for  the  "  forward  march,"  we  are  begin 
ning  to  get  hardened.  All  the  spare  blankets  and  other 
peculiar  comforts  connected  with  our  department,  have 
been  sent  to  the  arsenal,  and  we  find  using  one  and  the 
same  blanket  to  lie  on  and  to  cover  us  is  not  quite  the 
thing.  Your  hips  will  work  through  before  morning, 
and  you  are  glad  to  hear  the  morning  drum  beat.  Offi 
cers  have  prepared  themselves  for  the  march  by  confis 
cating  horses  and  mules,  by  the  valuable  help  of  contra 
bands  or  servants.  Mounted  on  these  nags,  we  would 
create  no  little  sensation  in  Berkshire.  Johnny  Merry 
(A)  was  fortunate  enough  to  "  draw  "  a  charger,  but  un 
fortunately  for  him,  the  charger  made  a  charge  with 
his  hind  leg  on  his  ankle,  and  sent  him  to  the  hospital. 
Brewster  "  drew  "  a  horse,  and  Howard,  who  is  very  fond 
of  riding,  rode  him  into  town,  and — walked  back,  car 
rying  bridle  and  saddle.  A  colored  matron  Inid  claim  to 
him  (to  the  horse,  not  to  Howard),  and  satisfied  the  pro- 
vost-marshall  of  the  genuineness  of  her  claim ;  so  the  quar 
termaster  drew  a  blank  that  time. 

Speaking  of  the  darkeys,  reminds  me  that  I  have  often 
read  of  the  joyous  labors  of  the  sugar  season,  how  they 
anticipated  it  with  pleasure,  and  grew  fat  while  working 
up  the  sweet  cane.  I  was  rather  taken  back  when  an  old 
colored  man  told  me,  that  the  masters  used  to  try  to 
frighten  the  negroes  away  from  us,  saying  that  we  would 
sell  them  to  Cuba,  where  they  had  two  sugar  seasons 
yearly.  Why  they  should  be  frightened  at  the  prospects 
of  doubling  their  joy,  I  could  not  see,  but  it  lies  here ;  the 
sugar  season  is  one  of  exhausting,  killing  labor.  The 
mills,  once  started,  know  no  rest,  and  all  the  sleep  the 
hands  get  is  from  midnight  to  two  hours  before  day.  I 
remember  Mr.  Clay  stated  in  the  Senate,  that  sugar  hands 
did  not  average  seven  years  of  life ;  that,  as  the  planters 
needed  twice  as  many  hands  during  the  season  as  they 
could  work  the  rest  of  the  year,  they  found  it  cheaper  to 
keep  only  as  many  as  they  could  profitably  employ  in  the 


1G2  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-XINTn 

comparatively  idle  season,  and  to  put  them  on  double 
labor  when  hurried.  True,  this  killed  off  many,  and  in 
volved  the  necessity  of  buying  more  slaves;  but  the  mur 
dering  jilaii  was  the  cheapest,  and  therefore  adopted. 
Sugar  season,  a  joyous,  fattening  time!  Alas!  for  an 
other  slavery  lie. 

A  Southern  gentleman  told  me,  "  we  must  have  slavery 
or  abandon  the  cultivation  of  sugar,  for  though  slaves  did 
less  than  free  laborers  would,  their  labor  was  '<;  rt<i'ui  ;  you 
could  rely  on  so  much  being  done."  If  this  be  true,  then  I 
say,  abandon  the  sugar  crops  of  Louisiana.  We  get  about 
one-third  of  our  sugar  from  this  State,  and  to  protect  that 
unnatural  crop  from  competing  with  West  India  sugar, 
we  put  a  tariff  of  two  cents  a  pound  on  the  latter.  This 
is  protective  tariff  with  a  vengeance,  or  rather  protection 
to  slavery.  The  South  should  not  attempt  to  raise  sugar, 
for  it  is  a  forced  crop.  If  it  cannot  be  raised  without  forced 
or  slave  labor,  God  jicver  intended  it  to  be  raised  at  all. 
Small  farmers  will  yet  raise  it  by  free  labor.  There  is  no 
need  of  every  cane  grower  owning  an  expensive  mill. 
One  mill  would  answer  for  a  dozen  sugar  u  farms,"  (the 
negroes  rarely  ever  say  "  plantation.")  The  colored  people 
look  upon  our  preparations  for  leaving  with  great  interest 
and  solemnity.  They  fear  the  return  of  the  rebels.  Let 
the  army  retire  and  hundreds  must  suffer,  for  on  us  they 
live.  We  will  miss  their  neat  restaurants.  Neatness 
seems  to  be  a  negro  virtue.  T.  Back,  (F)  our  color  ser 
geant,  has  been  recommended  for  a  lieutenancy  in  one  of 
the  negro  regiments,  on  the  ground  of  experience  a<  a 
dier  in  the  Florida  war,  and  as  an  overseer.  He  should  fail 
because  he  has  been  an  overseer.  Xo  man  should  com 
mand  negroes,  unless  he  would  give  bonds  never  to  spell 
negro  with  two  "  g's.''  Observers  say  free  negroes  won't 
work  under  their  old  overseers.  Negro  troops  will  prove 
an  expensive  failure,  if  having  been  an  overseer  recom 
mends  a  man  for  their  command. 

Lieutenant    Noble   (B)    is    Adjutant   and    Assistant 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  163 

Quartermaster  in  the  Ambulance  corps.  It  is  a  respon 
sible  post.  lie  will  do  well  therein.  A.  N.  Cowlea  (E) 
having  been  promoted  to  the  post  of  Ordnance  Sergeant 
of  our  brigade,  our  happy  family  loses  him,  and  adopts  R. 
K.  Bliss  (B)  his  successor,  as  Armorer.  He  is  a  skilful 
mechanic  and  a  pleasant  companion. 

As  we  may  not  return  to  Baton  Rouge,  but,  conquering 
Port  Hudson,  press  on  to  Vicksburg!  thence  to  East 
Tennessee !  thence  to  Charleston  !  and  through  Richmond ! 
home,  I  would  like  to  give  you  some  idea  how  wealthy 
Southerners  live.  Not  having  been  there  myself,  and 
prowling  guerrillas  make  the  visit  a  dangerous  one,  I  am 
indebted  to  the  observing  eyes  of  F.  K.  Arnold,  one  of 
the  most  intelligent  and  reliable  of  Co.  E  for  this  de 
scription.  "  The  Perkins  place  is  situated  on  the  Perkins 
road,  about  three  miles  southeast  from  Baton  Rouge. 
The  mansion  is  beautifully  situated  on  a  rise  of  ground. 
Access  from  the  road  is  by  a  drive  half  a  mile  in  length, 
lined  on  either  side  with  trees.  Near  the  house  are  China 
trees,  reaching  above  the  roof,  and,  being  in  full  bloom, 
load  the  air  with  a  delicious  perfume.  In  the  yard  and 
garden  are  roses,  cactuses,  pinks,  verbenas,  and  many 
plants  unknown  to  us,  and  also  a  hot-house.  The  man 
sion  is  of  brick,  seventy  feet  front  and  thirty  deep.  On 
one  end  and.  in  front,  is  a  tasty  two-story  veranda,  with 
cast  iron  front.  This,  as  well  as  the  various  rooms,  is 
lighted  with  gas  made  on  the  premises.  A  broad  hall 
divides  the  house  into  two  equal  parts.  On  the  ground- 
floor  are  twelve  spacious  rooms,  each  having  a  iire-place 
with  marble  mantle  and  hearth,  and  fine  chandelier.  The 
doors  are  of  imitation  oak.  A  broad  brick  walk  runs  in 
front  of  the  house,  the  step  into  which  is  made  of  alternate 
blocks  of  black  and  white  marble.  Two  artificial  ponds, 
once  the  homes  of  sunny  fishes,  but  now  of  disgusting 
water-snakes,  are  near  the  house.  The  whole  place  shines 
through  its  neglect  as  having  once  been  the  residence  of 
taste  and  culture,  aided  by  all  the  appliances  of  wealth. 


164  LIFE    WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

There  was  also  a  very  large  brick  sugar -house,  with  two 
large  stationary  engines.  The  evidences  of  Vandalism 
are  everywhere  apparent ;  windows  and  blinds  smashed, 
gas  fixtures  broken,  doors  torn  from  their  hinges,  immov 
able  furniture  broken,  new  billiard-table  all  ripped  up, 
iron  safe  stove  in,  picture  frames  with  the  canvas  cut  out, 
walnut  writing-desks,  dressing-bureaus,  wardrobes,  etc., 
more  or  less  defaced."  Several  estimated  the  original 
value  of  the  furniture  of  this  mansion  at  fifty  thousand 
dollars.  And  here  n-e  are  with  cold  coffee  in  our  canteens, 
hard  bread  and  salt  beef  in  our  haver-sacks,  shivering  under 
thin  blankets,  only  waiting  for  orders  to  strike  a  blow 
that  will  prostrate  that  whole  institution,  which  builds 
for  a  few  oppressors  such  mansions,  while  it  dooms  the 
entire  peasantry  of  the  land,  black  and  white,  to  hopeless 
poverty  and  wretchedness. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  165 


LETTER    XXII. 

^NKS,  I 

March  21,  1863. 


CAMP  BANKS,  BATON  ROTOE,  LA.,  ) 


MY  DEAR  L. : 

I  don't  know  whether  I  quote  this  doggerel  correct  or 
not — 

"The  King  of  France  with  thirty  thousand  men, 
Marched  up  the  hill,  and  then  marched  down  again." 

Well,  that  is  our  experience.  Here  we  are  back  again, 
next  to  our  old  carnp.  We  did  not  lose  a  man  in  our 
assault  on  Port  Hudson.  We  did  not  see  an  armed 
rebel.  The  whole  thing  was  a  "feint."  Successful,  I 
suppose,  for  Banks  has  officially  informed  us  that  "  the 
object  of  the  expedition  is  accomplished."  Well,  we 
come  back  in  no  very  pleasant  humor.  After  screwing 
our  courage  to  the  sticking  point,  and  writing  solemn, 
patriotic  letters  home,  preparing  them  to  mourn  over  us 
proudly,  it  is  really  provoking  to  be  alive  and  well,  not 
even  having  learned  whether  our  guns  would  go  off  or 
not.  Glory !  I  fear  thou  art  not  for  the  Forty-ninth. 

On  Saturday,  the  14th,  at  5  A.M.,  we  started.  We 
carried  no  baggage,  save  overcoats  and  blankets.  Instead 
of  going  by  the  woods  road,  we  lengthened  out  our 
march  near  two  miles  by  going  through  the  city,  which 
was  military.  Emory  aftd  Grover  led  the  way;  our 
division  (Augur's)  brought  up  the  rear.  The  baggage-, 
wagons  and  artillery  were  sandwiched  between  the  dif. 
ferent  brigades.  The  morning  was  cool,  the  road  was  in 
fine  order, — trees,  just  budding  out,  and  festooned  with 
vines  and  moss,  were  on  either  hand ;  so  for  five  miles 
marching  was  a  luxury.  We  reached  the  Bayou  Mon- 
tecino  without  any  incident  save  the  breaking  down  of  a 


166  LIFE    WITH    THE    FOUTY-MXTH 

wagon,  which  led  to  a  generous  hos]>itality  in  the  matter 
of  bread  and  butter  and  cheese.  The  butter  was  excel 
lent.  I  learned  (whether  before  or  after  eating  it,  depo 
nent  saith  not)  it  was  some  of  the  veritable  butter  that 
disappeared  during  the  raid  on  the  sutler's  tent  on  Long 
Island.  The  negroes  were  in  advance  of  the  advance, 
having  laid  down  an  India-rubber  pontoon  bridge  in  the 
place  of  the  fine  county  bridge  destroyed  by  the  rebels, 
and  also  a  wooden  one.  "  Our  army  swore  terribly  in 
Flanders."  Had  good  Uncle  Toby  sat  by  me  on  the  i'ar 
side  of  the  bayou,  and  heard  the  drivers  as  they  got  their 
mules  over  the  stream  and  up  the  hill,  he  would  have 
concluded  that  the  army  kept  up  the  old  practice. 
Mules,  carts,  and  harnesses  are  all  spoils  of  war.  The 
carts  are  nearly  twice  as  large  and  heavy  as  our  carts. 
They  put  a  mule  in  the  shafts,  and  then  one  on  either 
side,  and  away  they  go  over  the  itnrailxJ  bridge.  Each 
outside  mule  being  afraid  of  the  water,  presses  from  it, 
and  if  they  are  equal  in  strength,  they  get  over  safely, 
but  if  one  pushes  harder  than  the  other,  there  is  danger 
of  cart  and  all  going  into  the  stream.  I  would  rather 
charge  a  rebel  battery  than  drive  a  mule  team  over  that 
bridge.  When  over,  fifty  men,  more'  or  less,  help  the 
mules  by  pushing,  striking,  kicking,  and  swearing  to  get 
up  the  hill.  With  the  green  stagnant  water  we  filled 
our  canteens,  and  pressed  on.  We  had  passed  the  shade, 
and  now  we  were  to  try  the  effects  of  the  Louisiana  sun. 
In  the  whole  march,  but  seven  of  our  regiment  fell  out. 
A  few  miles  beyond  the  bayou,  and  we  came  to  a  burn 
ing  house,  said  to  have  been  fifed  because  an  officer  was 
shot  from  there.  We  stopped  to  kill  a  cow  for  our  din 
ner,"and  taking  half  in  our  \v_agon,  reached  our  stopping 
place  about  noon.  The  boys  stood  their  march  of  fifteen 
miles  well.  Marching  is  our  work •  every  thing  else  is 
play  in  comparison.  Carry  a  bureau,  alias  knapsack,  on 
your  back,  though  it  may  have  nothing  in  it  but  an  over 
coat  and  two  blankets,  and  a  ten-pound  gun  with  sixty 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.         .  107 

rounds  of  cartridges,  and  haversack  filled  with  food,  and 
canteen  holding  a  quart  of  water,  and  you  have  a  load 
that  will  bow  you  over,  make  you  round-shouldered,  and 
give  shoulders,  chest,  and  back  many  an  unpleasant 
twinge.  If  the  roads  are  muddy  and  the  weather  hot, 
and  especially  if  you  are  in  the  rear  of  a  column,  neces 
sitating  a  number  of  "double-quicks"  to  keep  up,  you 
have  a  job  that  is  more  like  hard  work  than  to  mow  an 
acre  of  grass,  or  to  cut  two  cords  of  wood  in  a  day. 

That  afternoon  we  encamped  in  two  large  fields, — one 
occupied  by  our  horses,  wagons,  and  artillery,  the  other 
by  the  infantry.  Like  magic,  our  little  white  houses 
arose.  The  fences  furnished  us  with  flooring,  that  saved 
us  from  contact  with  the  damp  ground.  After  you  know 
how,  you  can  make  quite  a  cosy  bed  of  two  rails,  sepa 
rating  them  a  little  to  let  the  hips  down.  The  Southern 
ers,  with  a  commendable  foresight,  put  up  rail  fences 
about  ten  feet  high,  and  often  ten  or  twelve  rails  in  one 
pannel.  Since  Uncle  Sam  has  ceased  paying  eight  dollars 
a  cord  for  our  wood,  we  have  been  dependent  on  our 
own  axes  for  this  essential,  and  often  shut  up  to  the 
exclusive  use  of  green  wTood.  No  one  can  complain  of 
the  quantity  or  quality  of  this  fence  wood.  Soon  the 
blessed  coffee  was  smoking  before  us,  and  on  our  rations 
we  dined.  Ere  long,  some  wanderers  would  come  in 
with  sweet  potatoes,  or  a  leg  of  mutton,  or  a  quarter  of 
beef,  or  a  hog,  and  a  little  conversation  with  them  would 
result  in  the  mysterious  disappearance  of  a  squad  from 
each  company.  Our  officers  were  all  blind  that  day,  and 
when  they  were  invited  to  partake  of  a  broiled  chop,  or 
a  little  tenderloin,  or  perchance  a  piece  of  fried  chicken, 
with  some  fine  sweet  potatoes,  they  did  so  as  a  matter  of 
course,  perchance,  in  their  innocence,  thinking  that  the 
enterprising  Adams  Express  Company  had  just  arrived 
with  some  delayed  luxuries  from  home.  Successful  for 
aging  cheered  the  boys,  and  made  them  forget  lame 
shoulders,  galled  feet,  and  general  fatigue.  If  health 


168  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

requires  that  meat  should  cool  some  time  before  cooking, 
1  am  afraid  that,  on  that  Saturday  afternoon,  wo  laid  up 
materials  for  much  future  sickness.  An  unlucky  hog  or 
frightened  sheep  would  run  on  the  points  of  our  bayonets, 
and  we,  that  there  should  be  no  waste,  would  soon  have 
him  in  the  kettle.  Sometimes  a  stray  bristle  would  tickle 
our  throats,  teaching  that  many  hands  make  /taste,  if  not 
waste.  We  did  not  institute  very  lengthy  inquiries  as 
to  the  loyalty  or  disloyalty  of  the  coveted  property.  All 
about  there  were  so  steeped  in  treason,  that  we  never 
could  be  fully  satisfied  of  their  loyalty  till  we  knew  if 
they  were  eatable  or  not.  Judging  by  that  standard, 
the  loyalty  of  many  wras  above  all  suspicion.  Too  late 
came  the  knowledge,  and  we  tried  to  comfort  ourselves 
with  the  reflection  that,  even  in  death,  they  served  their 
native  land, — thus  proving  us  lineal  descendants  of  them 
who  threw  suspected  witches  into  the  river  to  test  their 
connection  with  the  devil.  If  they  swam,  they  were  to 
be  burned  as  guilty ;  if  they  sank,  mourned  as  innocent 
martyrs.  Though  we  never  stopped  to  ascertain  if  the 
cock  and  his  mate  crowed  for  Abe  Lincoln  or  Jeff.  Davis, 
yet  we  became  fully  convinced  that  they  all  belonged  to 
a  race  of  touyh  rebels.  Teeth  sharpened  on  hard  tack, 
jaws  made  strong  by  exercising  on  commissary  beef, 
were  compelled  to  own  that  the  old  Chanticleer  was  too 
much  for  them.  Happy  were  those  who  did  not  go  after 
water.  Our  fountain  was  a  hollow  lilled  up  by  the  over 
flow  of  the  Mississippi.  Dip  your  dish  in,  make  rapid 
circles  to  scatter  the  scum  and  dirt,  and  you  could,  after 
casting  out  the  stagnant  particles,  have  -a  pail  of  water 
that  a  Berkshire  farmer  would  give  to  his  hogs — only 
when  all  the  springs  had  iailed.  There  is  no  accounting 
for  taste,  yet  it  did -seem  to  me  as  if  the  water  would 
have  been  purer  if  that  good  fe!l<»\v  <ibove  me  had  post-  . 
poned  washing  his  shirt  and  body  till  after  1  had  tilled 
my  pail,  but  he  did  not  see  it  in  that  light,  and  I  went 
back  to  make  and  drink  my  coffee,  at  times  imagining 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  109 

something  scraping  my  throat,  as  if  rebels  had  got  within 
the  citadel.  When  we  have  to  use  such  water,  we  should 
strain  it  before  boiling,  and  a  towel  that  has  not  been 
used  too  long,  or  an  old  shirt,  answers  very  well  for  that 
purpose.  We  think  we  have  already  exceeded  our  al 
lowance  of  dirt,  and  that  each  one  is  well  into  his  half 
bushel. 

We  had  a  sleeping  chamber  that  night  that  was  cer 
tainly  unique^  and  a  serenade  that  I  shall  never  forget. 
Imagine  yourself  under  a  cart,  with  a  pair  of  mules  tied 
to  the  wheel  on  either  side,  pulling  said  cart  first  to  the 
one  side,  and  then  to  the  other,  accompanying  their 
efforts  with  braying — that  most  discordant  of  all  sounds 
— which  would  be  taken  up  by  one  after  another,  till 
such  a  concert  as  Pandemonium  alone  can  get  up  would 
banish  all  sleep,  and  you  have  the  status  of  our  depart 
ment  on  the  night  of  the  fourteenth  of  March,  1863. 
About  eleven  o'clock,  a  deep  bass  was  added  to  the  con 
cert.  It  was  the  cannon's  opening  roar.  Till  near  morn 
ing  it  was  continuous,  shaking  the  ground  we  laid  on, 
which  was  only  about  eight  miles  from  Port  Hudson. 
We  listened  to  the  sullen  firing,  and  with  a  soldier's  joy 
awaited  the  coming  dawn.  It  came  with  rapid,  heavy 
firing,  and  much  confused  harnessing  of  teams  and  artil 
lery.  Men  spoke  in  whispers,  and  we  faintly  caught  the 
word  "  retreat."  Nearer  sounded  the  guns,  and  lo !  our 
whole  division  marched  swiftly  on  from  Port  Hudson. 
Then  came  rapid,  heavy  firing,  then  a  lurid  glare  min 
gling  with  the  opening  light,  then  a  noise  and  shock  that 
made  the  solid  ground  tremble,  and  then  stillness  and 
darkness.  Fast  we  walked,  and  awe  and  half-panic 
seized  many  hearts.  The  sun  arose,  and  no  enemy  fol 
lowed  us.  On  we  went,  dispirited,  angry,  fully  believ 
ing  we  had  suffered  a  severe  defeat,  and  wondering  why 
our  division  had  been  idle.  Gradually  we  learned  the 
facts.  We  doubted  them  long,  and  when  it  was  officially 
declared  that  "  the  object  of  the  expedition  is  accom- 
8 


170  LIFE   WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

plished,"  we  esteemed  it  only  an  official  lie  to  cover  up  a 
defeat  that  the  unemployed  troops  might  have  converted 
into  a  victory.  This  is  the  history  of  the  whole  nilair  : 
Banks  wanted  to  get  past  Port  Hudson,  to  cut  off  rebel 
supplies  from  up  the  river.  In  this  he  succeeded,  as  the 
Hartford  and  Albatross  passed  the  batteries,  and  landed 
some  troops  north  of  the  stronghold.  The  land  move 
was  only  a  feint  to  aid  the  passage  of  the  fleet.  How 
we  aided,  we  can't  see.  The  near  firing,  the  light,  the 
shock,  were  the  death  throes  of  the  ^Mississippi.  She 
had  reached  the  upper  part  of  the  enemy's  works,  and 
was  almost  out  of  danger,  when  in  the  smoke  and  dark 
ness  she  grounded.  While  trying  to  get  off,  she  kept 
the  enemy  from  their  guns  by  firing  two  hundred  and 
J'ff!/  shots  in  thirty-five  minutes.  Her  crew  were  taken 
on  board  the  iron-clad  Essex,  and  she  was  then  fired. 
The  fire  lightening  her,  she  swung  round  by  the  force  of 
the  current,  and  headed  down  stream.  The  guns  of  her 
port  battery,  which  had  not  been  fired,  becoming  heated, 
the  venerable  old  frigate  paid  a  parting  salute  to  the 
rebels,  at  the  same  time  that  she  fired  the  minute  guns 
over  her  own  grave.  Had  she  floated  down  stream  stern 
foremost,  it  is  impossible  to  conjecture  what  would  have 
been  the  result,  inasmuch  as  her  guns  would  have  been 
discharged  on  her  own  crew,  on  the  neighboring  bank. 
Fragments  drifted  past  Baton  Rouge,  causing  the  loyal 
to  fear,  and  traitors  to  hope. 

The  wagon  trains  and  most  of  the  brigades  stopped  at 
the  Bayou  Montecino,  but  our  brigade  inarched  into 
Baton  Rouge,  and  then  immediately  back  again.  While 
few  or  none  fell  out  of  the  ranks  in  coming  to  the  bayou, 
fearing  the  enemy  might  be  behind,  yet  they  returned 
from  the  city  like  scattered  sheep,  mad  at  themselves, 
mad  at  their  generals,  and  mad  at  the  colonel's  horse, 
which  kept  on  a  mad  pace,  requiring  the  boys  to  trot  te 
keep  up.  They*did  not  "keep  up,  but  came  in  singly  or 
in  squads — hot,  footsore,  and  tired.  We  encamped  in 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  171 

an  old  corn-field,  and  it  rained  as  it  can  rain  only  in 
Louisiana.  It  was  a  wet,  gloomy  night  for  us.  Our 
shelter-tents  proved  a  failure.  Hulet  and  I  slept,  or  tried 
to  sleep,  on  a  bed  of  cracker-boxes  only  three  feet  wide. 
You  may  judge  of  the  comfort  of  the  regiment,  when  I 
tell  you  our  bed  was  almost  Excelsior.  Many  of  the 
officers  took  refuge  in  a  dirty  but  dry  cabin,  and  looked 
forward  to  a  good  rest,  but  soon  an  order  carne  that  no 
man  must  sleep  without  the  limits  of  the  camp,  and  their 
hopes  of  comfort  died  out  as  they  accommodated  them 
selves  to  beds  of  rail,  beneath  which  scorpions  and  lizards 
rested,  and  on  which  the  generous  rain  descended.  Our 
brigadier-general  was  not  much  better  off.  He  made  his 
head-quarters  in  a  negro  hut,  so  as  not  to  disturb  the 
ladies  who  occupied  the  mansion-house  of  Mr.  Pike.  Co. 
C  was  sent  out  as  pickets.  Travelling  through  the  mud 
for  two  miles,  they  reached  their  posts,  when  they  were 
informed  that  they  were  sent  out  in  mistake,  and  through 
the  now  heavy  rain  they  gladly  returned,  and  on  arriving 
at  camp  there  learned  that  the  order  calling  them  in  was 
a  mistake,  and  they  must  return.  In  the  mud,  and  rain, 
and  dark,  they  went  back  again.  Glad  they  were  that 
they  had  caught  a  mule,  on  which  they  lashed  their  tents 
and  blankets.  They  were  riot  so  glad  when  the  mule 
vamosed,  leaving  them  tentless  and  blanketless.  Coming 
from  Puritan  land,  their  religion  may  have  been  rather 
blue.  Certain  it  is  that  some  swore  till  the  very  air  was 
blue ;  but  they  had  to  grin  and  bear  it,  comforted  with 
the  reflection,  " 'tis  sweet  for  our  country  to  be  ducked" 
Finding  that  his  sweet  potatoes  were  fast  disappearing, 
Mr.  Pike  made  a  virtue  of  necessity,  and  opened  the 
holes  for  public  use.  These,  with  a  few  stray  hogs  and 
sheep,  and  the  inevitable  coifee,  the  soldier's  elixir  vitce, 
kept  up  our  courage,  by  keeping  our  stomachs  filled. 
That  Sunday  passed,  the  only  one  of  my  life  in  which  I 
could  find  no  trace  of  the  Sabbath,  prick  up  imagination 
never  so  much. 


172  LIKE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

We  stayed  al  Jl.-mui  Monteeino  till  yesterday  afternoon. 
The  weather  was  fine,  so  fine  that  nearly  every  one  aban 
doned  his  woollen  under-clothes.  Nothing  of  note  hap 
pened.  One  morning  we  hoped  to  have  a  brush.  A 
brigade  wont  out  toward  the  Clinton  road,  on  a  double 
quick.  Alas !  for  our  dreams  of  glory,  it  was  a  false 
alarm.  Some  nice  vases,  goblets  and  articles  of  vertu 
found  their  way  to  our  camp  from  abandoned  h<>u>e>.  A 
fancy  upholsterer  stored  his  stock  in  a  remote  cotton-gin 
house,  safe,  as  he  thought,  from  the  touch  of  the  vandals. 
That  stock  grew  "  small  by  degrees  and  beautifully  less." 
What  is  pilfering?  Is  taking  property  lying  about  IO<>M', 
having  none  to  claim  ownership,  pilfering'?  If  so,  silence 
is  discreet.  War  makes  sad  havoc  with  our  ideas  of 
meiim  and  tuum.  Strictly  honest  men,  yet  haters  of 
rebels,  might  find  that  some  of  their  Southern  habits 
have  a  proclivity  toward  free  quarters  at  Lenox.  "I 
must  live,"  said  a  man  to  Dr.  Johnson,  trying  to  excuse 
some  defalcation.  The  grand  old  hater  of  wrong,  re 
sponded,  "Sir,  I  don't  admit  that  necessity."  So,  per 
chance,  rebels  and  yv/.sv'-Unionists  might  have  said,  as 
they  saw  us  thinning  out  their  stock  to  keep  our  lives 
comfortable.  Certainly,  though  our  consciences  are  not 
as  tough  as  their  beef,  that  larceny  never  troubles  u<. 
Last  Monday  we  made  a  raid  on  the  sugar-house  of  a  Mr. 
Williams.  Save  the  half  idiotic  wife  of  the  overseer,  the 
whites  had  fled.  The  negroes,  glad  to  see  us,  piloted  us 
to  the  luxuries.  Half  of  the  brigade  must  have  joined 
in  that  raid.  Men  forgot  their  sore  feet  and  lame  hacks. 
Sugar,  molasses,  and  sweet  potatoes  were  before  them. 
Canteens  were  filled  with  molasses ;  haversacks,  rubber 
blankets,  even  shirts  bursted  with  sugar.  For  once  the 
government  ration  was  enough.  Next  morning  the  order 
came  to  march.  What  to  do  with  the  sugar,  fifteen 
pounds  to  a  man — and  the  molasses — a  quart  each,  wa* 
the  question.  Stowing  away  what  they  could  stagger 
under,  they  gave  the  rest  to  the  negroes  and  the  quarter- 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  173 

master.  After  this  distribution  they  learned  that  marching 
orders  had  been  countermanded.  Then  there  was  quite 
a  rush  on  us  for  their  sugar,  some  claiming  twice  as  much 
as  they  had  deposited.  We  gave  it  out  a d  libitum,  heartily 
glad  to  get  rid  of  it.  Most  of  that  Tuesday  morning 
was  occupied  in  making  and  eating  molasses  candy.  Each 
man  with  his  stick  in  hand,  gathered  round  his  company 
fire  and  took  his  share  of  the  goodies.  The  Lieutenant- 
Colonel's  beard  gave  evidence  that  he  had  not  outgrown 
his  early  tastes  ;  the  "  tall-major"  bowed  in  reverence  to 
the  boiling  sweet  and  brandished  his  candy  stick  with  as 
much  gusto  as  any  subaltern ;  all  the  officers  practically 
acknowledged,  "  a  fellow  feeling  makes  all  equal,"  save 
the  Colonel  and  Adjutant.  I  hope  the  reserve  of  Head- 
Quarters  was  penetrated  by  a  dish  of  army  candy. 

Rough  experience  brings  its  blessing  in  the  form  of  a 
ration  of  whiskey.  The  lovers  of  that  article  would  have 
been  better  pleased  if  they  had  been  allowed  to  take  their 
whiskey  and  quinine  separately.  As  it  is  now  served, 
vacillating  Sons  of  Temperance  resolve  to  abide  by  cold 
water.  All  but  the  cold.  I  used  to  be  an  ultra  temper 
ance  man,  but  since  driven  to  decide  between  going  with 
out  fluid  or  drinking  something  called  water,  obtained  from 
the  nearest  bayou,  below  where  horses  and  mules  drink, 
and  wash,  at  least,  I  am  led  into  sympathy  with  Paul's 
advice,  to  "  take  a  little  wine  for  thy  stomach's  sake  and 
thine  often  infirmities."  Levity  aside;  our  drinking 
water  is  horrid  and  obtained  from  the  dirtiest  places,  with 
the  most  filthy  surroundings.  We  have  never  yet  pushed 
away  dead  mules  to  fill  our  canteens,  but  we  have  drunk 
water  that  your  farmers  would  hardly  wash  their  hogs 
in.  Here,  in  the  city,  the  water  is  cleaner,  but  very  un 
wholesome.  The  Colonel  will  not  allow  us  to  drink  it, 
so,  all  our  drinking  water  is  carted  from  the  river.  While 
that  is  muddy,  it  is  sweet.  Throw  a  little  alum  into  it, 
and  you  clear  it.  Of  course,  this  is'  not  practicable,  so 
we  must  drink  it  as  it  is.  The  fine  sediment  in  it  is  ab- 


174  T.IFI':    WITH    THE    FOIITY-MNTII 


sorbed  by  the  kidneys,  and  produces  gravel,  stone,  and 
other  diseases  of  the  kidneys.  The  water  being  so  poor 
.and  warm,  having  no  snap  to  it,  we  use  roll)  •«•  (<>  excess; 
hence  dian-lnea.  Generally,  we  issue  hall'  roli'ee  an<l  halt' 
KM,  but  the  former,  seemingly  more  of  a  stimulant,  is  the 
more  acceptable.  O!  for  one  glass  of  Berkshire  water. 
I  long  for  nothing  so  much.  How  often  our  fevered  sick 
yearn  for  the  old  springs  by  their  mountain  homes. 
Alas!  many  will  never  again  quaff  from  those  springs. 
Sickness  is  increasing  rapidly  among  us.  In  some  hospi 
tals  claret-wine  is  given  to  the  patients.  An  iced-claret 
punch  is  considered  the  *•//>/<  >///////  Ionian  of  all  drinks. 
To  me  claret  seems  a  cross  between  sour  cider  and  poor 
port  wine.  You  can  buy  it  for  fifty  cents  a  bottle  in  New 
Orleans  ;  here  we  pay  $1  50  for  it.  It  cannot  fairly  be 
called  an  intoxicating  beverage. 

We  returned  to.  Baton  Rouge,  and  be  fissured  that 
the  "feint"  has  made  us  faint  indeed.  We  settle  down, 
believing  that  there  is  nothing  for  us  but  camp  monotony 
and  fighting,  the  unseen  enemies  that  lurk  in  the  air  and 
water  of  Louisiana.  Now,  the  ill  effects  of  enlisting  men 
for  so  short  a  period  are  being  manifested.  "When  is  our 
lime  out?  When  will  we  go  home?"  are  the  great  ques 
tions  of  interest.  The  strong  ask  them  —  for  they  see  a 
dull  future  ;  the  weak  ask  them  —  for  //.<,'//  see  a  short 
future  bounded  by  the  grave.  They  only  hope  to  expand 
their  horizon  of  life  by  an  early  move  on  Berkshire.  The 
once  prostrate  here  rarely  rally  till  the  cool  weather 
comes.  Alas!  death  comes  more  rapidly.  Some  hope 
that  we  will  be  mustered  out  in  Massachusetts',  May  15th, 
being  nine  months  from  date  of  draft,  which  our  volun 
teering  prevented.  Some  put  it  as  late  as  June  10th,  and 
some  think  we  will  not  leave  here  before  June  19th,  when 
the  term  of  service  of  seven  companies  will  expire.  If 
the  government  wants  us  to  re-enlist,  it  will  do  well  to 
send  us  home  as  early  as  possible,  even  straining  a  point 
in  our  favor.  Give  us  a  few  months  of  Berkshire  air, 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  175 

and  we  could  return  even  to  tins  grave-yard,  and  not 
have  one-third  as  many  on  the  sick  list  as  we  now  have. 

The  soldiers  generally  like  the  enrolment  act.  No 
felons  in  the  army ;  that  is  right.  Make  the  cause  too 
sacred  for  felonious  hands  to  handle.  Putting  the  mini 
mum  age  at  twenty  years  is  a  mistake.  The  statistics  of 
the  British  army  show  fifty  per  cent,  more  of  sickness  in 
troops  of  twenty  years  and  upward  than  under  that  age. 
Men  of  forty-five  can  stand  more  than  boys  of  eighteen, 
but  once  prostrate,  they  rally  more  slowly.  Youths  have 
a  wonderful  recuperative  power.  Our  boys,  under  twen 
ty,  stand  it  better  than  any  other  class.  Years  have  not 
robbed  them  of  their  elasticity.  They  rarely  think  of 
fatigue  until  they  are  exhausted.  The  increased  pru 
dence  of  maturer  years  does  not  count  as  much  as  youth 
ful  energy. 


176  LIFE    WITH   TUB   FORTY-NINTH 


LETTER    XXIII. 

CAMP  BANKS,  BATON  ROUGE,  LA.,  April  13, 1863. 

MY  DEAR  L. : 

After  quite  a  long  interval,  I  take  up  the  thread  of 
narrative,  of  the  doings  and  surroundings  of  the  Forty- 
ninth.  On  the  fourth  instant,  we  moved  to  our  present 
camp,  which  is  on  a  rolling,  shadeless  spot,  on  the  bor 
ders  of  the  city.  The  field  and  staff  are  in  contiguity  to 
a  majestic  oak,  making  their  quarters  as  pleasant  as  can 
well  be  imagined  for  this  vicinity.  The  soldiers  are  being 
massed  together,  the  trees,  near  our  old  camp,  cut  down 
so  as  to  give  unbroken  range  for  cannon,  the  fort  and  for 
tifications  strengthened  and  finished;  these  things,  in 
connection  with  Banks's  movement  on  the  west  side  of 
the  river,  do  not  teach  that  we  shall  always  be  holiday 
soldiers.  If  any  movement  be  made  on  Fort  Hudson, 
troops  and  supplies  from  Texas  through  the  Teche  coun 
try,  must  be  cut  off.  Otherwise,  we  might  take  that 
Gibraltar  by  storm,  but  would  fail  in  reducing  it  by  siege 
or  starvation.  Many  of  the  troops  in  this  department  are 
nine  months'  men.  If  any  tiling  be  done  it  must  be  done 
by  us,  for  Banks  has  not  enough  without  us  to  reduce 
Port  Hudson.  It  admits  of  serious  doubt,  if  trif/t.  //x,  lu- 
can  add  the  surrender  of  that  place  to  his  laurels.  1 
think  he  is  preparing  to  starve  out  his  foe,  if  storming 
should  fail.  To  the  east  of  us  we  have  thrown  up  a 
series  of  rifle-pits,  between  us  and  where  the  enemy  will 
probably  come,  if  he  come  at  all.  Do  you  know  what  a 
riile-pit  is  ?  Well,  it  is  a  pit  two  or  more  feet  deep,  and 
about  three  feet  wide.  The  dirt  taken  from  it,  is  thrown 
upon  the  side  whence  tin-  \pected.  The  de- 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  177 

fenders  of  the  pit  stand  therein  while  firing  on  the  foe. 
Their  heads  are  about  the  only  parts  of  their  bodies  ex 
posed,  while  they  have  full  range  of  their  assailants.  The 
soldierly  neatness  of  our  colonel  is  apparent  in  the  supe 
riority  of  oar  rifle-pits  over  those  thrown  up  by  other 
regiments.  Our  pits  are  as  finished  as  if  they  were  parts 
of  a  permanent  fortification.  With  spade  in  hand  he 
showed  us  how  the  work  should  be  done.  A  nice  house 
with  fine  shade  trees  stands  right  in  the  way  of  our  fire. 
It  will  soon  come  down.  We  enjoy  the  prospects  of  its 
fall  more  than  do  its  secession  occupants. 

"  The  children  of  this  world  are  wiser  in  their  genera 
tion  than  the  children  of  light."  Traitors  take  more  pains 
to  instil  treason  into  their  little  ones,  than  we  do  to  imbue 
ours  with  loyalty.  The  children  of  this  house,  ranging 
from  eight  to  twelve,  seem  quite  well  posted  in  the  garbled 
statements  that  have  cheated  the  Southern  people.  Many 
times  have  they  half  amused  and  provoked  us.  I  saw  a 
little  toddler  of  three  years  of  age,  and  asking  her  to  kiss 
me  in  remembrance  of  my  own  babe,  I  received  the  an 
swer  ;  "  I  won't  tiss  a  Yankee."  I  laughed,  so  her  moth 
er  thought  she  would  reveal  still  more  of  her  child's  trea 
sonable  precocity,  and  put  her  through  the  rebel  cate 
chism.  I  send  you  three  questions  with  their  answers, 
as  specimens : 

"  Who  are  you,  my  child  ?" 

"  A  rebel,  by  the  grace  of  God." 

"  Who  are  the  chief  enemies  of  our  happiness  ?" 

"  Lincoln  and  Seward." 

"  Is  it  wrong  to  kill  a  Yankee  ?" 

"•  No  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  an  act  meriting  the  favor 
of  God." 

I  have  scarcely  met  a  rebel,  old  or  young,  that  was  not 
quite  well  posted  in  the  fancied  wrongs  of  the  South.  I 
fear  our  people  are  not  so  well  conversant  with  the  rights 
we  are  defending.  I  heard  the  National  song  of  the 
Confederacy ;  "  The  Bonnie  Blue  Flag."  In  poetry  and 


178  LIVK    WITH    THi:    FORTY-NINTH 

music  it  is  as  much  inferior  to  the  "Star  Spangled  Ban 
ner,"  as  the  Confederacy  is  to  the  Union. 

Speaking  of  our  colonel's  neatness,  reminds  me  that  we 
are  unquestionably  the  banner  regiment  of  the  first  divi 
sion  in  that  respect.  Soldiers  copy  after  thcit  officers. 
Neatness  is  a  prominent  characteristic  of  our  comman 
der.  "Who  ever  saw  him  looking  slovenly  ?  Who  ever 
saw  the  lieutenant-colonel,  or  major,  or  adjutant,  or  sur 
geon,  dress  unbefitting  their  rank  ?  None.  Go  through 
our  streets ;  you  will  say  "  neat ;"  see  our  boys  on  pa 
rade — is  there  a  musket  unbrightened,  a  button  or  a  brass 
unpolished,  a  sloven  among  them  all  ?  Not  one.  If  one 
there  should  be,  he  had  better  keep  close  behind  his  file 
leader,  for  if  the  watchful  eyes  of  the  colonel  (the  boys 
say  he  can  see  out  of  the  back  of  his  head)  should  fall  on 
him,  he  would  have  an  opportunity  to  learn  how  nearly 
united  are  cleanliness  and  godliness,  while  standing  guard 
under  t  !ie  weight  of  a  loaded  knapsack.  The  boys  grum 
ble  at,  the  time  and  toil  this  cleanness  demands,  but  are 
well  satisfied  when  they  compare  themselves  with  some 
of  their  neighbors,  whose  officers  are  careless  in  their  at 
tire.  Berkshire  never  saw  us  in  all  our  wealth  of  white 
gloves  and  glittering  brasses.  Many  a  future  household 
will  thank  the  Fort)  -ninth  for  lessons  and  habits  of  neat 
ness.  Company  G  arc  now  acting  as  provost  guards. 
They  have  a  comfortable  gas-lighted  house  to  live  in, 
and  many  of  the  appliances  of  civilization.  Their  duties 
are  of  a  character  to  attract  attention,  and  I  think  the 
H'-ntness  of  the  regiment  led  to  one  of  its  constituent  com 
panies  receiving  this  compliment.  This  neatness  reacts 
on  our  self-respect.  A  man  with  a  clean  body  and  clean 
clothes  is  not  so  ready  to  do  a  mean  action  as  when  body 
and  clothes  are  dirty.  A  dirty  Christian  !  did  you  over 
bee  one?  I  never  did.  This  attractiveness  costs  labor. 
A  gun  is  a  hard  thing  to  keep  ctt-an  and  uurusted  in  a 
humid  climate  like  this.  Exposure  on  guard  and  picket 
duty,  makes  it  yet  harder.  Our  white  gloves  were  not 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  179 

purchased  by  the  men  without  some  dissatisfaction.  The 
right  of  the  colonel  to  compel  them  to  buy  articles  of  clo 
thing  not  specified  in  the  regulations  or  furnished  by  the 
government,  is  questionable.  He  did  not  compel  any  to 
purchase,  but  I  understand  he  sent  for  one  of  the  malcon 
tents  and  gave  him  a  pair  of  gloves.  I  have  heard  of  no 
trouble  since. 

We  live  in  our  wedge  tents,  and  our  shelter  tents  fur 
nish  us  with  awnings  that  do  much  to  break  the  fierce 
rays  of  the  sun.  Guards  no  longer  walk  their  beats,  but 
sit  down  under  protecting  awnings.  Oh,  it  is  hot  here  ! 
Our  tents  are  like  ovens.  Driven  by  the  suffocating  heat 
within,  we  go  out  only  to  meet  the  intolerable  rays  of  a 
Southern  sun.  The  nights  bring  no  coolness,  only  the 
dank  moisture.  The  winds  blow  high  here.  Often  you 
can  see  the  leaves  rustling  in  the  breeze  and  pant  in  vain 
for  a  share  thereof.  Generally,  there  is  some  fresh  air 
stirring  on  the  river.  Fortunately,  our  main  hospital  is 
on  its  banks.  By  keeping  their  houses  closely  shut  up 
during  the  day,  the  residents  manage  to  be  comfortable, 
but  they  say  that  in  July  and  August,  keeping  cool  is  an 
impossibility,  but  that  the  perspiration  will  roll  from  you 
while  doing  nothing  and  in  the  coolest  places.  We  can 
readily  believe  them,  for  now,  in  April,  our  bodies  are  al 
ways  moist.  See  us  in  our  thick  woollen  garments,  and 
you  would  suppose  we  would  dissolve  in  perspiration, 
but  this  is  the  only  climate  in  which  a  man  can  wear  flan 
nel  next  to  his  skin  with  pleasure.  The  constant  perspi 
ring  destroys  the  itching,  burning  sensation,  so  familiar 
to  flannel  wearers  in  the  North.  Speaking  of  itching  re 
minds  me  that  nearly  every  one  is  more  or  less  troubled 
with  the  "  ground  itch,"  supposed  to  be  caused  by  lying 
on  or  near  the  damp  ground.  White  pimples,  filled  with 
humor,  appear  on  the  body.  The  itching  is  intolerable, 
and  the  only  relief  is  wholesale  scratching,  until  the  blood 
runs.  This  produces  scabs,  which  in  some  cases  cover 
the  whole  person.  This  itch  is  a  kind  of  outlet  to  fever. 


180  LIFK    WITH    THE    FORTY-XIM II 

Drive  it  in  and  fever  is  almost  sure  to  follow.  Perchance 
bathing  would  mollify  our  torment.  Until  the  snows  of 
the  Northern  streams,  that  feed  the  Father  of  rivers,  are 
melted,  the  river  is  too  cold  for  bathing. 

Already,  we  have  flies  in  legions,  and  hordes  of  mos 
quitoes  innumerable.  Add  to  these,  lizards  (Howard 
felt  some  tiling  crawling  up  his  back  :  on  examination, 
a  venomous,  green,  snaky  lizard  presented  itself),  spiders 
larger  than  walnuts,  insects  vaster  ;md  more  numerous 
than  ever  entered  our  minds  to  conceive,  and  you  can 
form  some  idea  of  the  delights  of  a  soldier's  life  in  the 
"Depaitnu'iit  of  the  Gulf."  The  government  has  fur 
nished  us  with  mosquito  bars,  so  we  rest  in  some  degree 
of  peace,  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  threatening^)  of -myriad 
fpi-s,  turned  into  a  doubtful  music  by  the  judicious  ar 
rangement  of  a  little  netting.  Holland  (A)  came  in  from 
picket,  and  on  his  face  you  could  not  put  a  pinhead  with 
out  covering  the  mark  of  a  mosquito.  He  said  they  bit 
through  his  rubber  blanket.  Whether  that  was  fact  or 
joke,  I  know  not,  but  we  are  prepared  to  swallow  nearly 
any  mosquito  story,  however  large.  I  shall  never  think 
of  a  tropical  climate  without  recalling  the  tropical  prolitic- 
Q688  of  all  pests. 

C.  Markman  has  resigned  his  post  as  cook  of  Company 
B,  and  ice  have  been  fortunate  enough  to  secure  his  ser 
vices  ;  so  we  are  living  as  to  make  going  home  a  matter  of 
comparative  indifference  as  far  as  the  table  is  concerned. 
If  we  could  only  secure  the  destruction  of  the  multitudi 
nous  ants,  and  had  an  extra  hand  to  keep  the  Hies  out  of 
our  mouths  while  eating,  and  if  it  did  not  require  so  much 
dexterity  to  use  a  knife  in  lieu  of  \\\  conveying 

butter  from  the  di  ;li  to  our  philes,  we  could  get  along 
quite  well.  In  some  of  my  raml >!<-  outside  the  lines,  I 
secured  several  gallons  of  dewberries  (remember,  it  is 
only  April),  many  of'  which  were  t\\iee  as  large  as  wal- 
liuts,  and  'f  you  could  have  IMSSI  1  our  pies,  you  would 
have  thought  the  lines  had  fallen  to  us  in  pleasant  places. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  181 

Report  has  it  that  we  go  to  the  "  Army  of  the  Poto 
mac1,"  and  that  our  places  are  to  be  filled  by  three  years' 
regiments.  Nine  months'  men  should  never  have  been 
sent  so  far  away,  but  as  that  class  are  mainly  from  New- 
England,  and  this  is  a  "New-England  expedition,"  we  were 
sent  hero.  I  hope  this  report  is  true,  for  we  would  like 
to  get  out  of  this  grave-yard.  Going  home  is  the  great 
topic  with  us.  Start  any  theme,  and  it  will  get  round  to 
that  before  the  conversation  ends.  We  have  all  kinds  of 
rumors  on  that  subject.  The  time  of  seven  companies 
really  ends  the  nineteenth  of  June,  and  no  sophistry  can 
extend  it  longer.  We  were  mustered  in  as  companies 
for  nine  months,  and  if  discharging  us  at  that  time  is  in 
convenient  and  embarrassing,  the  fault  is  not  ours.  Any 
attempt  to  keep  us  longer  will  awaken  bad  blood,  causing 
demoralization,  if  not  mutiny.  Had  we  sworn  to  remain 
nine  months  from  the  date  of  regimental  organization,  we 
would  keep  our  bond,  but  now  we  claim  the  letter  of  the 
law.  We  will  submit  to  our  fate,  however  unjust.  We 
are  in  the  eagle's  grasp,  and  squirming  will  not  avail  us. 
Mutiny,,  and  how  Will  we  be  fed,  how  get  home?  These 
are  questions  more  easily  asked  than  answered.  This  so 
licitude  about  a  speedy  return  to  Massachusetts  dishonors 
our  patriotism,  say  you.  If  assured  that  our  country's 
welfare  demanded  our  prolonged  stay,  we  might  be  wil 
ling  to  stay,  but  now  we  see  only  the  wilting  of  our  sick 
and  the  burial  of  our  dead.  Put  us  before  the  enemy, 
and  we  would  see  the  nineteenth  of  June  pass  by,  and 
grumble,  but  our  latent  patriotism  would  be  evoked,  and 
we  would  not  disgrace  our  native  State.  Nous  verrons. 

Colonel  Bartlett  says  we  do  not  drill  as  well  as  we  did 
six  weeks  ago.  That  is  true ;  we  have  not  the  snap  and 
vigor  we  had  then.  We  are  worked  overmuch.  To-day 
there  is  company  drill  of  near  two  hours  in  the  morning, 
in  the  afternoon  brigade  drill  and  dress  parade  occupying 
near  four  hours.  To-morrow,  you  go  on  picket  or  on 
guard.  If  on  picket,  you  do  nothing  the  day  of  your  re- 


182  LIFE    WITH    Till:    l-'oi:  rV-Ni.NTH 

« 

turn  but  appear  at  dress  parade.  The  next  day  you  take 
your  turn  in  the  regular  duties.  If  on  guard,  the  follow 
ing  day  tii ids  you  doing  police  duty  and  engaging  in 
brigade  drill.  As  sickiu-s-*  has  so  reduced  our  mini: 
pk-ket  and  guard  duties  come  unpleasantly  near  each 
other.  I  do  not  know  that  the  colonel  is  responsible  for 
this  overworking.  Were  we  healthy  and  in  the  North,  our 
labors  would  be  just  enough  to  keep  us  fresh  and  vigor 
ous.  As  it  is,  they  exhaust  us.  Though  a  cold  snap  re 
duced  our  sick  from  168  to  116,  yet  we  are  mere  shadows 
of  our  former  selves.  On  leaving  New  York  we  averaged 
fifteen  pounds  per  man  more  than  when  we  enlisted.  Now 
we  averaged  at  least  fifteen  pounds  lots  than  when  we 
entered  the  service.  It  is  difficult  to  find  a  man  who  is 
not  afflicted  with  diarrhoea.  Men,  disturbed  by  the  oper 
ations  of  that  disease  half  a  dozen  times  in  the  day,  would 
be  called  sifk  at  home;  here  they  are  on  the  well  list  and  do 
full  duty.  This  insidious  disease  is  rarely  overcome  while 
living  on  camp  fare.  If  not  speedily  overcome,  it  becomes 
chronic,  and  then  farewell  comfort,  energy,  life  itself. 

Our  diet  is  as  good  as  soldiers  can  expect  in  such  a  cli 
mate.  If  the  meat  and  coffee  ration  were  reduced  one- 
half  and  the  deficiency  made  up  in  vegetables,  it  would  be 
better  for  us.  There  is  much  dilhVulty  in  obtaining  a  full 
supply  of  vegetables,  even  of  potatoes,  many  of  which  are 
uneatable.  Mixed  vegetables,  and  desiccated  potatoes, 
have  been  served  out,  but  they  don't  take.  With  beef- 
soup,  they  might  answer.  Our  salt  beef  is  generally  good, 
but  this  climate  is  too  warm  for  pork.  It  becomes  soft, 
oily,  and  maggoty.  I  cannot  see  why  salt  lish  cannot  be 
issued  instead  of  meat.  Herrings,  mackerel,  etc.,  would 
do  much  to  render  the  rest  of  our  food  palatable.  Of  soft 
bread,  we  have  enough  and  to  spare.  The  exci .-><  ena 
bles  us  to  get  our  washing  done  by  negro  women.  Some 
luxuries  find  their  way  to  the  camp  by  the  sale  of  me; -t 
not  consumed. 

Good  cooking  would  do  much  to  make  our  food  health- 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  183 

ful,  but  how  can  that  be  secured  with  one  stove  for  a  hun 
dred  men,  more  or  less  ?  Beans  were  prohibited  for 
awhile,  but  finding  we  could  get  nothing  in  lieu  thereof, 
we  have  returned  to  them.  Cooked  right,  and  we  have 
no  food  so  popular  and  wholesome ;  but  poorly  cooked, 
.-Hid  they  are  more  fatal  ih an  rebel  bullets.  The  officers 
enjoy  better  health  than  the  privates.  This  is  mainly 
owing  to  their  better  style  of  living.  Though  the  law 
provides  for  the  payment  of  rations  not  drawn,  it  is  al 
most  impossible  to  secure  that  payment,  Who  is  to 
blame,  I  know  not.  Hard  crackers,  toasted  in  hog  grease, 
is  a  favorite  dish.  Nothing  can  be  more  unwholesome, 
and  the  prohibition  of  the  surgeon  fails  to  stop  the  evil. 
Oh,  for  pay-day !  Then  the  boys  could  get  something  to 
gratify  their  palates,  and  their  diarrhoea  would  be  checked. 
With  some,  that  disease  is  the  result  of  insufficient  food. 
In  its  incipient  stages,  I  have  known  it  to  be  cured  by  an 
abundance  of  good  food.  This  long  delay  of  pay-day  has 
much  cramped  our  sutler,  rendering  him  unable  to  ob 
tain  goods  so  as  to  trust  us.  This  has  been  bad  for  us, 
and  worse  for  him.  I  do  not  think  he  wilt  make  a  for 
tune  out  of  his  position.  Mr.  Springstein  is  not  fitted  to 
be  a  sutler.  He  is  a  generous  gentleman.  I  know  few 
men  who  will  do  more  to  oblige  another,  and  from  what 
I  can  see,  a  successful  sutler  must  be  a  compound  of 
energy,  extortion  and  closeness.  A  desire  to  go  with  the 
regiment,  to  spend  the  winter  in  the  South,  more  than  to 
make  money,  led  him  to  accompany  us.  Captain  Morey 
recently  distributed  a  case  of  claret  wine  among  his 
men.  Among  his  many  acts  of  kindness  to  his  men,  none 
has  been  more  acceptable.  He  and  Captain  Weston 
have  done  much  in  this  way,  to  add  to  the  comfort  of 
their  men,  as  have  also  many  of  the  other  officers.  As 
a  body  they  have  shown  much  anxiety  for  our  welfare. 

The  morale  of  the  regiment  does  not  deteriorate.  Sun 
days  are  inspection  days  and  holidays,  but  they  are  dull. 
Religious  services  are  few  and  far  between  ;  no  books  or 


184  LIFK    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

tracts  to  read,  fe\v  things,  save  less  drilling,  and  less  card 
playing  to  indicate  the  presence  of  the  Sabbath.  A  mem 
ber  of  the  Christian  ComMii>sion  pivaclu  1  ;br  us  laM  Sun. 
day  evening.  Drawn  up  on  1  he  three  sides  of  a  hollow 
square,  in  the  moonlight,  we  listened  to  the  grand  old 
truths,  the  foundation  of  all  duties,  and  thought  of  Sun 
day  eve'ning  meetings  in  Berkshire.  God  bless  that 
Christian  Commission.  The  members  of  it  work  gratui 
tously  for  our  temporal  and  eternal  welfare,  and  are  doing 
much  to  raise  up  a  Christian  soldiery.  God  is  measurably 
baptizing  the  army.  I  doubt  not  more,  proportionally, 
are  converted  in  the  camp  than  at  home.  Soldiers  will 
not  return  corrupted.  .  On  the  whole,  they  improve. 
They  may  be  divided  into  three  classes.  First,  Chris 
tians  ;  these  knowing  that  peculiar  temptations  sur 
round  them,  that  the  unconverted  are  watching  them, 
and  that  death,  by  disease  or  bullet,  may  soon  visit  them, 
are  led  to  increased  watchfulness,  and  therefore  grow  in 
grace.  Second,  moral  men  ;  moral  by  the  power  of  edu 
cation,  association  and  absence  of  temptation,  whose 
morality  is  not  fastened  to  faith  in  Christ;  these  deterio 
rate.  Third,  the  dissolute,  the  rough ;  men  who  have 
had  no  religious  education,  nor  learned  subordination  at 
home.  These  are  benefited  by  their  military  experience. 
If  liquor  is  as  scarce  and  hard  to  be  obtained  in  other  depart 
ments  as  it  is  in  this,  the  army  is  as  good  as  a  temperance 
society.  Officers  can  purchase  liquor  ;  enlisted  men  can 
not.  The  drunkenness  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  lies 
with  the  former.  Why  should  they  have  the  right  to  buy 
rather  than  privates  ?  Is  a  drunken  officer  less  prejudi 
cial  to  the  service  than  a  drunken  private  ?  Do  shoulder- 
straps  render  a  man  less  liable  to  temptation,  or  more  im 
pervious  thereto  ?  I  have  seen  but  two  drunken  officers 
in  this  whole  department;  and  but  little  reflections  can 
be  cast  on  their  chastity.  If  licentiousness  exists,  it  shuns 
the  gaze  of  day.  Sunday,  when  we  came  here,  was  kept 
as  it  ij  in  France,  but  now,  all  business  is  suspended,  and 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  185 

we  have  the  quiet  of  a  New  England  Sabbath,  though 
quite  recently,  the  theatre  was  open  on  a  Sunday  night. 
This  mockery  of  a  theatre  is  quite  well  patronized  by  offi 
cers  and  negroes ;  our  empty  pockets  would  keep  us 
away,  had  we  any  desire  to  go.  One  of  our  general's 
staff  officers  demeaned  himself  by  serving  as  stage-mana 
ger  and  actor.  Whether  it  is  because  we  are  better  than 
we  were  formerly  or  not,  I  know  not,  but  punishment  has 
become  obsolete  among  us.  We  are  an  orderly  set,  as  an 
army.  A  secessionist  remarked  that  he  did  not  know 
how  our  men  were  kept  so  quiet ;  you  would  not  know, 
if  you  did  not  see  them,  that  there  were  any  soldiers 
about ;  that  one  company  of  their  troops  would  make 
more  noise  than  our  whole  army. 

Frequent  mails  keep  us  in  pleasant  communication  with 
Berkshire.  The  Republican  and  Eagle  are  almost  as 
welcome  as  letters.  The  latter  especially,  posts  us  in 
local  matters  and  in  many  little  items  our  friends  do  not 
write  about,  forgetting  every  thing  done  or  said  at  home 
has  a  charm  for  us  now.  Letters  on  both  sides  fail  in 
details.  Brevity  is  not  now  the  soul  of  wit.  Mail  day 
is  a  great  day  with  us.  The  lucky  ones  show  by  their 
cheerful  looks  that  they  have  "  heard  from  home,"  while 
to  the  sick,  letters  are  more  invigorating  than  all  the 
remedies  of  the  surgeon.  Unhappy  they,  for  whom  mail 
after  mail  brings  no  token  from  absent  friends.  "Are 
you  sure  there  is  nothing  for  me  ?"  "  Quite  sure !"  and 
the  hungry  one  clings  to  the  hope  that  it  may  have  been 
miscarried  to  some  other  regiment,  and  will  soon  find  its 
way  to  him.  When  that  hope  dies  out,  home-sickness 
takes  hold  of  him,  and  if  he  be  otherwise  sick,  hastens 
him  to  the  hospital  or  the  grave.  This  is  a  real  sickness. 
We  have  much  leisure  time,  we  know  not  how  to  fill  it 
up,  and  so  dwell  often  and  long  on  the  friends  of  home, 
till  a  desire  for  them  is  an  unsatisfied  soul-yearning,  that 
really  prostrates.  T/ien,  a  word  of  sympathy  is  as  the 
voice  of  an  angel.  Yearning  for  this  unattainable  has 


ISC  LIFE    WITH   THE    FOETY-XINTII 

shortened  many  a  soldier's  career.  "Died  of  home-sick- 
ne>v'  should  be  written  on  many  a  grave.  The  victims 
to  this  disease  are  not  babes  or  cowards,  but  the  finest 
sjiirits  of  the  army.  Alone  in  a  crowd,  craving  sympathy 
and  fearing  the  sneer,  they  wilt  and  die.  How  little  our 
relatives  understand  what  comfort  and  strength  their 
letters  inspire.  If  they  did,  they  would  always  keen 
letters  on  the  stocks,  noting  down  what  Harry  said,  or 
that  sister  lias  a  new  frock,  or  that  the  baby  is  beginning 
to  walk,  or  that  Mr.  Smith  is  to  Jbe  married  to  Miss 
Brown  ;  all  these  things  that  go  to  make  up  their  daily 
lives. 

We  have  given  up  all  hopes  of  a  supply  of  reading 
matter.  We  hunger  for  something  to  read.  Books  are 
borrowed  weeks  in  advance.  Even  Reynolds's  trashy 
novels  are  read  ilironyh,  and  that  too,  by  educated  men. 
"  Nothing  to  read,''  is  the  deep-toned  complaint  every 
where.  The  people  at  home  do  not  know  what  sacrifice 
nii-ans.  This  mental  hunger  is  fearful.  Roam  through 
our  large  hospitals  and  see  what  freedom  costs.  Till 
quite  recently  there  were  no  beds.  The  sick  lay  on  their 
one  blanket,  till  putrid,  running  sores  were  the  result. 
No  one  stood  near  to  brush  away  the  flies  and  insects. 
Now  all  have  beds,  and  mosquito  bars  enable  them  to 
rest  in  peace.  Perchance,  all  is  done  that  can  be  done 
for  their  comfort;  our  hospitals  are  airy,  sweet,  and  clean, 
and  what  delicacies  can  be  obtained,  the  sick  receive,  or, 
at  least,  the  government  provides  and  pays  for;  but,  ohj 
how  unlike  the  ministrations  of  home.  Villains  lind 
their  way  into  the  hospitals.  Money  and  articles  of  value 
sometimes  mysteriously  disappear,  to  say  nothing  of  luxu 
ries  sent  to  or  bought  for  the  sick.  There  must  be  a  hell 
for  such  villains. 

We  hear  favorable  news  from  Banks,  who  is  now  in  the 
Teche  country.    He  is  sending  cotton,  sugar,  and  moL 
into  New  Orleans,  in  quantities  sufficient  to  meet  a  large 
share  of  the  expense  of  this  expedition.     The  rebels  have 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  187 

cut  the  levee  above  us,  on  the  west  bank  of  the  river,  in 
hopes  of  flooding  us  out. 

Adjutant-General  Thomas  is  now  engaged  in  raising 
negro  troops.  How  public  opinion  has  changed!  He 
used  to  be  a  bitter  pro-slavery  man.  Many  unwilling 
negroes  are  conscripted  into  the  ranks.  I  do  not  object  to 
that,  but  I  do  object  to  paying  the  negro  soldiers  less  than 
whites.  They  do  as  much  or  more  work,  are  exposed  to 
the  same  hardships  arid  to  greater  dangers,  for  their  cap 
ture  will  be  followed  by  their  death,  and  they,  therefore, 
should  be  paid  the  same.  Paying  a  negro  less  for  the 
same  services  than  a  white  man  is  one  of  the  remaining 
chains  of  slavery.  Between  the  enlisting  and  the  planta 
tion  scheme,  we  hope  that  they  may  be  cared  for,  and  the 
fearful  mortality  that  has  cut  off  thousands  be  lessened. 
The  next  winter  will  be  a  dreary  one  for  many  of  them, 
and  no  doubt  selfish  men  on  government  plantations  will 
greatly  abuse  them,  so  that  it  may  even  seem  that  "  abol 
ishing  slavery  means  abolishing  the  slave."  The  transition 
state  will  be  accompanied  by  much  distress  and  a  sad 
mortality,  but  order  will  ultimately  come  out  of  chaos, 
and  having  endured  the  pangs  of  freedom's  birth,  they 
will  secure  its  blessings. 

Death  has  been  busy  among  us.  The  soul-eating 
monotony  has  often  been  broken  by  the  funeral  proces 
sion.  We  are  learning  too  well  the  funeral  call,  with  its 
mournful  music,  its  measured  tread,  the  reversed  arms, 
the  closing  volleys,  and  the  lively  air,  played  on  returning 
fr.om  the  grave,  to  banish  a  sadness  that  will  not  be  thus 
exorcised.  Seth  R.  Webster  (K)  died  of  fever  at  the  Gen 
eral  Hospital  in  this  place,  on  the  15th  of  March.  He 
was  a  married  man,  from  New  Marlboro,  aged  thirty- 
seven  years,  and  is  spoken  of  as  a  very  nice  man.  His 
battle  was  fought  in  the  hospital,  where  so  many  soldiers 
close  their  career  of  patriotic  self-sacrifice. 

On  March  20th,  death  made  its  first  inroad  into  Com 
pany  A,  by  striking  down  with  the  hand  of  fever  William 


188  LIKI:  WITH  THE  FORTY-NINTH 

Taylor,  formerly  a  finisher  in  Taconia  Mills,  Pittsfield. 
He  died  in  the  General  Hospital  at  Xew  Orleans,  and 
leaves  a  wile  and  ehild  to  look  lor  his  return  in  vain.  II  • 
was  sick  several  weeks.  As  a  soldier,  he  was  steady, 
faithful,  ami  reliable.  For  once,  mirthful  Captain  Weller 
was  sobered.  He  felt,  indeed,  that  his  family  circle  was 
broken.  His  sadness  did  him  honor. 

Morton  Olds  (F)  died  here  March  21st.  Fever  was 
his  foe.  He  was  a  steady,  even-tempered  farmer  boy  of 
eighteen  years  of  age,  from  Sandisfield. 

Fever  also  struck  low  in  death,  March  22d,  Eugene  W. 
Pierce,  Sergeant  (B),  of  Windsor.  He  died,  I  believe, 
as  he  was  returning  to  this  place,  but  was  buried  at  New 
Orleans.  His  father  came  on  to  visit  him,  but  death  had 
finished  his  work  ere  his  arrival.  He  was  one  of  our 
reliable  farmer  hoys,  aged  twenty-one  years,  with  bright 
eye,  denoting  no  ordinary  intelligence.  He  was  a  good 
soldier,  and  was  one  of  the  "  color  guard/'  The  common 
foe  gave  him  no  chance  to  guard  those  colors  amid  the 
smoke  of  battle,  llis  wish  doubtless  was,  w/tilc  so  doing, 
to  give  his  soul  out  to  God. 

Allen  M.  Dewey,  Corporal  in  Company  C,  died  at  New 
Orleans,  on  March  23d.  lie  was  taken  sick  just  as  we 
left  Carrolllon,  and  lingered  with  fever  for  six  weeks. 
His  sufferings  were  borne  with  gentle  patience.  I  saw 
him  lying  on  his  one  blanket,  emaciated,  the  bones  work 
ing  through  the  skin,  which  was  raw  and  marked  with 
putrid  sores,  gasping  for  bivath,  yet  seemingly  resigned. 
When  we  made  a  feint  on  Port  Hudson,  many  of  the 
sick  were  removed  to  Xew  Orleans,  lie  was  one  of  that 
number.  I  fear  it  hastened  his  death.  One  of  his  com 
rades  says  he  died  with  all  the  calmness  of  him  whose 
peace  with  God  was  made,  lie  was  from  Pittsfield,  aged 
thirty-five  years,  a  melodeon-maker  by  trade,  lie  w 
faithful  soldier  and  a  genial  companion.  We  shall  miss 
\\-<  pleasant  smile  and  that  rich  voice  which  so  often 
cheered  us  with  its  m.-lndiou<  smi.  Heaven's  choir  has 


MASSACHUSETTS  VOLUNTEERS.  189 

received  him,  and  his  war  has  terminated  in  a  hallowed 
peace. 

On  the  same  day,  typhoid  fever  cut  down  Lyman 
Lindsay  (E),  at  this  place.  He  was  one  of  our  Sheffield 
farmers,  aged  twenty-two  years,  and  his  officers  speak  of 
him  as  a  good,  nice  boy. 

Alexander  Smith  (C),  of  Lenox,  died  here,  March  28th. 
He  was  a  shoemaker  by  trade,  and  only  nineteen  years  of 
age. 

Nelson  B.  Stetson,  Corporal  (K),  died  at  the  General 
Hospital,  on  the  1st  instant,  of  fever.  He  leaves  a  wife 
and  child.  He  was  one  of  Windsor's  best  soldiers,  a 
farmer,  aged  twenty-eight  years.  He  was  faithful  and 
reliable  in  all  the  positions  of  life,  and  from  all  I  can  learn 
met  death  as  one  who  had  learned  that  "  the  sting  of 
death  is  sin,  but  thanks  be  to  God,  who  giveth  us  the 
victory  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  I  attended  his 
funeral.  We  went  to  the  hospital,  where  hundreds  far 
away  from  home  are  learning  the  hardest  lesson  a  soldier, 
or  any  one,  can  learn,  "  to  suffer  and  be  strong."  Roses 
in  full  bloom  perfumed  the  fresh  air  blowing  from  the 
river,  but  very  many  were  wrapped  up  in  the  insensibility 
or  delirium  of  fever ;  inhaling,  perchance,  the  fragrance 
of  flowers  that  grow  around  the  old  homestead,  and  cool 
ing  their  fevered  brows  with  breezes  from  their  native 
hills.  We  went  into  the  "  Dead-room."  There  were 
several  corpses  there,  each  one  marked  with  the  name, 
company,  and  regiment  of  the  deceased.  Discarding  the 
coarse  coffins  furnished  by  government,  we  tenderly 
placed  all  that  remained  of  our  comrade  in  a  neat  coffin, 
provided  by  the  thoughtfulness  of  Orderly  Gleason,  and 
bore  him  without  the  lines.  At  the  foot  of  a  tree,  just 
bursting  into  bloom,  on  the  shore  of  the  Mississippi,  we 
buried  him.  'Twas  sad,  and  tears  from  manly  eyes  at 
tested  how  near  home  it  came  to  each  of  us.  Many  have 
looked  forward  to  an  early  return  to  Massachusetts,  per 
chance  Nelson  among  them  ;  many  loved  ones  there  have 


190  I.IFI:  WITH  THE  FORTY-NINTH 

counted  the  few  intervening  days,  and  as  that  quiet  grave 
buries  the  hopes  that  gathered  round  him,  so  other  graves 
will  receive  some  of  our  number,  and  the  affections  cling 
ing  to  us.  Friends  will  look  for  our  return  in  vain,  and 
realize  something  of  the  price  paid  for  a  perfected  liberty. 
Near  this  grave,  Charles  Bartholomew,  of  the  sum-. 
company,  is  buried.  He  was  a  boy  of  eighteen,  from 
Sheffield.  Fever  closed  his  career  yesterday.  In  the 
army,  burial  follows  death  speedily.  Neat  head-boards 
are  placed  at  each  grave,  'on  which  names  and  regiments 
are  painted.  For  a  lew  years  those  boards  will  tell  who, 
for  their  country,  did  die;  then  they  will  disappear,  and 
nothing  but  the  heaped  mounds  will  eloquently  speak  of 
that  class,  who,  martyrs  at  a  bleeding  nation's  call,  were 
yet  denied  the  proud  privilege  of  dying  on  the  field  of 
strive.  The  authorities  are  preparing  a  cemetery  to  re 
ceive  our  dead,  but  these  scattered  graves  seem  more 
eloquent  to  me  than  any  well-ordered  grave-yard. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  191 


LETTER    XXIV. 

CAMP  BANKS,  BATON  ROUGE,  LA.,  May  10,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

The  long  desired  paymaster  has  been  here.  Major 
Brodhead  paid  A,  B,  E,  and  F  on  the  23d  ult.,  and  then 
the  money  giving  out,  the  payment  of  the  rest  was  de 
ferred  till  the  30th  nit.  We  were  paid  up  to  March  1st. 
When  we  contrasted  our  little  piles  with  those  of  the 
officers,  we  were  almost  willing  to  bear  their  superior 
burdens  for  the  superior  pay.  I  do  not  think  they  are 
paid  too  much.  A  real  officer  is  worth  inore  to  the  ser 
vice  than  a  private.  If  increased  pay  would  increase 
their  efficiency,  I  would  be  in  favor  of  that  increase. 
Their  expenses  are  greater  than  ours.  They  have  to  pay 
for  the  food  they  do  not  buy  at  cost  of  the  Brigade  Com 
missary,  three  times  as  much  as  for  the  same  kind  of  food 
at  home.  I  have  seen  them  where  money  could  not  se 
cure  food,  and  they  were  dependent  on  our  generosity. 
The  members  of  Company  D  and  E  received  on  an  aver 
age  eight  dollars  more  than  the  rest  of  us,  yet  only  re 
ceived  pay  from  date  of  enlistment.  By  an  error  in  pay 
rolls,  eight  companies  drew  pay  only  from  time  of  going 
into  camp.  Though  sickness  is  alarmingly  on  the  increase, 
yet  pay-day  has  advanced  the  health  of  some,  and  would 
of  more,  could  delicacies  be  secured  here.  Pies  and  cakes 
are  poison,  for  they  are  generally  shortened  with  grease 
obtained  from  pork  sold  by  the  soldiers,  some  of  which 
was  diseased.  Vegetables  are  scarce,  and  in  this  land  of 
plenty,  I  .have  seen  no  edibles  equal  to  the  products  of 
Northern  gardens,  save  dewberries.  Provisions  are  so 
high,  that  we  can  purchase  but  few  good  meals  without 
curtailing  the  comforts  of  expectant  friends  at  home. 


192  I.IFi:    WITH    THE    FORTY- ISIXTII 

Large  quantities  of  greenbacks  have  been  sent  to  those 
friends.  God  bless  the  dear  boys,  needing  money  ami  its 
comforts  so  much,  yet  to  be  so  mindful  of  the  claims  <>;' 
parents,  wives,  and  children.  Such  men  will  light.  For 
the  first  time  for  months,  have  our  sutlers  (Springstein 
and  Langdon)  been  in  funds,  but  pay-day  came  too  late 
for  their  success.  They  cannot  send  North  for  supplie^, 
and  so  have  to  purchase  their  goods  at  Louisiana  prices. 
Of  course,  we  pay  very  highly  for  every  thing  we  buy, 
and  then  blame  them  unjustly.  Two  dollars  per  pound 
for  tobacco  makes  a  big  hole  in  our  pockets.  Pay-day 
brought  liquor  and  intoxication  to  light,  so  it  became 
necessary  to  close  the  saloons.  For  the  sins  of  the  few, 
the  many  were  punished. 

The  great  event  of  the  week  has  been  the  arrival  of  the 
Sixth  and  Seventh  Illinois  Cavalry,  under  Colonel  Grier- 
son.  For  eight  hundred  miles  from  La  Grange,  Tenn.,  to 
this  place,  they  rode  qn  their  errand  of  destruction.  This 
raid  injured  the  rebels  millions  of  dollars.  Near  Bayou 
Montecino,  they  met  some  Louisiana  cavalry,  by  whom 
they  were  cheered,  but  they  changed  their  tune  when 
they  found  out  their  mistake,  on  being  led  prisoners  to 
this  place.  The  Illinois  boys  are  now  our  lions.  Dusty, 
dirty,  and  worn  .they  look,  but  manifest  a  good  deal  of 
that  pride,  which  one  of  their  number  expressed :  "  I 
would  not  give  up  my  share  of  the  honor  of  this  raid  for 
a  farm  in  Illinois."  Many  of  them  exchanged  their  worn- 
out  horses  for  the  blooded  nags  of  aristocratic  stables, 
and  not  a  few  sported  watches  and  various  articles  of 
jewelry.  It  was  a  grand  raid,  and  has  given  Banks  what 
he  much  needs,  a  body  of  cavalry. 

"  Who  has  not  heard  of  Grierson's  raid, 
And  the  feats  of  valor  therein  displayed  ? 
Twas  a  brave,  bold  dash  through  the  hostile  land, 
That  scattered  terror  on  every  hand, 
Making  the  rebel  heart  afraid 
At  the  daring  valor  of  Grierson's  raid. 


SACHUSETTS    VOLUXTEEKS.  193 

t  *'  Through  their  cities  and  over  their  streams, 

The  flag  of  the  Union  once  more  gleams  ; 
There's  a  curse  on  the  air,  but  in  under  breath, 
As  the  troopers  go  on  their  work  of  death  ; 
Like  lightning  flashes  each  loyal  blade, 
To  light  the  path  of  Grierson's  raid. 

Onward,  yet  onward,  the  blazing  roof 
Echoes  in  flame  to  the  cavalry  hoof; 
And  fleeing  forms  in  the  midnight  air, 
Revealed  by  the  war-pyre's  ruddy  glare, 
Tell  the  story,  iu  fear  displayed, 
Of  the  woful,  terrible  Grierson's  raid. 

Onward,  yet  onward,  upholden  the  rein, 
Till  the  Union  lines  are  compassed  again, 
"Where  a  meed  of  grateful  honors  is  due 
For  the  troopers  bold,  and  tried  and  true  ; 
And  history  never  has  deed  portrayed 
That  brighter  shines  than  Grierson's  raid." 

The  prisoners,  one  hundred  in  number,  were  visited  in 
the  prisons  by  many  of  the  citizens  of  the  place,  and  sup 
plied  with  luxuries  and  bouquets.  Most  of  them  were 
large,  fine  looking,  but  poorly  dressed.  Some  of  Co.  G's 
men  escorted  them  to  New  Orleans,  where,  I  suppose, 
they  will  be  paroled,  and  set  loose  to  fight  us  at  Port 
Hudson. 

Humanity  and  prudence  triumph,  and  we  are  worked 
much  less  than  before.  We  have  dress  parade  at  8  A.  M., 
then  have  nothing  to  do  till  4  p.  M,,  when  we  go  out  to 
battalion  drill.  The  morning  drills  had  become  a  farce. 
The  considerate  officers  would  take  their  men  out  as  or 
dered,  and  then  drill  them  in  sitting  and  lounging  exer 
cises.  So  reduced  were  we,  that  it  was  rare  to  see 
twenty  men  in  a  company  at  those  drills,  and  the  boys 
say  that  one  company  presented  itself  at  dress  parade, 
numbering  one  officer  and  one  private. 

L.  Hedger  (E)  won  the  brigade  prize  of  $5  for  the  best 
shot  in  the  brigade.  W.  J.  Campbell  and  F.  Killredge 
(C)  were  the  next  best  shots,  We  think  that  is  pretty 
9 


I!'  1  .  M    THE    FoJH  Y-MNTII 

well  f  '!•  a  regiment,  many  of  whom  never  fired  a  gun  be 
fore  entering  the  army. 

On  the  2uth  nil.,  Companies  A,  D,  and  K,  under  Colonel 
Suinner,  visited  Du  Planche's  plantation,  nine  miles  be 
low  this  place,  to  obtain  eorn.  The  men  dined  as  usual, 
while  the  officers  enjoyed  Du  Plant-he's  hospitality,  which 
w::s  extended  to  the  rebels  only  two  days  before,  when 
near  twenty  of  our  men  were  killed  and  wounded.  A 
Mr.  Conrad,  brother  of  C.  M.  Conrad,  former  Secretary 
of  *W&ry  contributed  some  forty  hogsheads  of  sugar  to  our 
commissary  department.  Various  books,  bearing  the 
name  of  Miss  Conrad,  now  enliven  our  monotony.  My 
hands  are  iiim»st  clean  of  plunder  ;  almost,  for  at  the 

rted  plantation  of  a  tyrant,  Mr.  Ilatton,  I  "  drew" 
six  law  books.  The  books  were  odd  volumes,  scattered 
about  on  the  floor,  doing  no  one  any  good.  War  rimy 
obdurate  the  conscience,  but  I  read  them  with  great 
tranquillity  and  peace. 

On  the  loth  April,  Sergeant  Brooks  (C),  Sergeant 
Siggins  (D),  and  Orderly  Gle:ison  (K),  were  appointed 
by  the  colonel  as  second  lieutenants  in  their  respective 
companies.  How  Governor  Andrew  will  think  these  ''/>- 

fim-itts  tally  with  the  law  requiring  the  election  of 
the  officers  of  militia  regiments,  I  know  not.  The  two 

are  of  that  class  from  which  officers  should  come ;  in 
telligent,  prompt,  reliable.  The  above  were  appointed 
to  fill  the  vacancies  occasioned  by  the  resignation  of  Lieu 
tenant  Wells  (C)  (he  never  joined  us  after  we  left  New 
York),  Morey  (D),  and  Taft  (K),  the  latter  of  whom  was 
prostrated  with  sickness.  Lieutenant  Gleason  was  pre 
sented  with  sword  and  sash  by  his  associate  officers  of 
Company  K.  Colonel  Suinner  has  been  engaged  for 
months  as  president  of  a  general  court-martial.  Very 
many  cases  have  been  tried  before  that  court.  Talented, 
discriminating,  firm,  humane,  his  superior  for  that  po>t 
could  not  be  found  in  this  department....  Lieutenant  .hidd 
has  been  appointed  Regimental  Treasurer,  for  which 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  195 

his  uncommonly  fine  business  habits  peculiarly  adapt 
him. 

Porter  has  passed  Vicksburg  with  a  part  of  his  fleet, 
and  now  Banks  can  hold  communication  with  Grant.  A 
signal  station  has  been  located  on  the  top-mast  of  Farra- 
gut's  flag-ship,  which  runs  up  near  Port  Hudson,  and  sig 
nals  to  those  stationed  on  a  mast  of  one  of  Porter's  ves 
sels.  This  is  rather  provoking  to  the  rebels,  but  they 
can't  help  themselves.  Nightly,  we  hear  heavy  firing  up 
the  river,  and  hope  the  "  forward  march"  will  soon  call 
the  Forty-ninth  into  line. 

Alas !  how.  changed  are  we  from  the  men  who  marched 
in  that  celebrated  "  feint"  on  Port  Hudson.  Then,  we 
were  worthy  of  any  foeman's  steel.  Now,  we  are  but 
spectres.  Our  sick  list  stands  seven  officers,  and  two 
hundred  and  ninety-five  "enlisted  men."  Remember, 
these  are  only  they  who  are  "excused  from  duty."  We 
do  full  duty  as  long  as  possible.  Many  of  the  "  well" 
properly  belong  to  the  sick  list,  and  some  in  that  list  are 
shirkers.  Mortifying  it  is,  but  true,  that  well  men  are 
found  to  play  sick  and  to  endure  many  of  its  penalties. 
The  result  is,  the  surgeon  becomes  suspicious,  and  not 
being  infallible,  remands  some  of  the  really  sick  to 
duty,  and  doing  it,  they  die.  A  surgeon's  task  is  no 
pleasant  one.  It  is  hard  to  decide  who  of  reduced  men 
are  fit  for  duty,  yet  that  duty  must  be  done.  The  proud 
spirited  ones  magnify  their  ailings  that  they  may  not  be 
charged  with  attempting  to  "  shirk"  their  duties.  Dr. 
Rice  tells  of  one  man  in  his  old  regiment  who  cheated  all 
the  surgeons  and  got  his  discharge.  When  he  left  the 
harbor  on  his  way  home,  he  threw  away  his  bandages  and 
crutches  and  cursed  them  all  for  fools.  If  the  surgeon 
could  become  personally  acquainted  with  all  the  men,  the 
characters  of  not  a  few  would  shield  them  from  suspicion 
and  undue  labor.  Dr.  Winsor  is  a  gentleman,  and  con 
scientiously  performs  all  his  duties.  Naturally  of  a  re 
served  temperament,  he  does  not  receive  credit  for  the 


106  LII-'E    WITH    THE    FORTY-MVTM 

sympathy  he  really  feels.  We  generally  attribute'  t<>  Dr. 
Rice  superior  medical  abilities,  and  though  with  some 
peculiarities,  a  larger  sympathy.  Voting  Morey  makes  an 
excellent,  hospital  steward.  I  do  not  think  our  Northern 
physicians  understand  the  proper  treatment  of  the-zy- 
motic  diseases  of  the  South.  It  seems  strange  to  give 
quinine  to  men  while  fever  is  on  them. 

Every  morning  the  sick  call  on  the  surgeons,  who  ex 
amine  and  prescribe  for  them.  I  have  seen  hundreds  join 
in  that  procession.  A  mournful  procession  it  is,  one  that 
Avould  agonize  many  a  Berkshire  heart.  I  see  it  often, 
but  never  without  sadness.  Ask  many  of  them,  what  ails 
them,  and  they  cannot  tell.  An  unseen  foe  has  consumed 
their  strength.  Yet  their  fever  lighted  eyes,  their  ema 
ciated  forms,  their  shuffling  walk  and  drawling  speech  tell 
too  plainly  that  sickness  with  them  is  not  shirking  from  duty 
They  return  from  the  surgeon  "  excused  from  duty."  How 
now  to  pass  the  weary  day  before  starting  for  home  is  the 
question ;  for  few  expect  a  return  of  strength  till  they 
reach  home.  Alas !  death  is  preparing  for  them  a  final 
home.  The  water  they  drink,  every  thing  they  force  into 
their  unwilling  stomachs  produces  or  increases  a  strange 
feverishness.  No  cool  spot  invites  them  to  rest.  Their 
tents  are  like  ovens,  yet  they  must  choose  between  them 
and  the  unbroken  rays  of  a  Southern  sun.  Hordes  of  flies 
by  day,  and  insects  by  night  prevent  repose.  Few  gentle 
breezes  fan  them  by  day,  and  the  night  brings  no  coolness 
save  the  dampness  reeking  with  malaria,  a  dampness  so 
great  that  our  easy  boots  are  hard  to  draw  on  in  the 
morning.  Thus  day  and  night  pass.  Each  morning  finds 
them  weaker ;  nothing  to  do,  nothing  to  read,  sources  of 
conversation  almost  dried  up,  they  pass  their  weary  hours 
as  best  they  can,  sadly  enlivened  at  times  by  letters  from 
loved  ones  they  fear  they  may  never  again  see.  Oil  en  the 
consuming  monotony  is  gloomily  broken  by  the  funeral 
drum  announcing  that  with  another  and  yet  another  com 
rade,  the  weary  struggle  with  its  longings  for  home  is  ended. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  197 

At  last  they  are  borne  to  the  dreaded  and  crowded  hospi 
tals.    There,  though  they  have  better  care  and  diet,  unless 
they  have  much  of  energy  they  rapidly  fail.    Sick  and  sick 
ness  are  all  around  them,  the  gossip  of  the  camp  (an  uncon 
scious  tonic)  hushed,  the  mind  has  naught  but  to  prey  on 
itself.  Then  comes  from  many  a  heroic  soul :  "  Is  this  to  be 
my  end  ?    Was  it  for  this  that  I  left  parents,  wife,  children, 
all?     Is  this,  being  an    encumbrance  to  the  army,  the 
realization  of  my  hopes  of  serving  my  country  ?     Am  I 
here  to  die,  where  no  glory  can  gild  the  final  scene,  and 
where  none  of  the  tenderness  of  home  can  alleviate  my  then 
anguish  ?     Oh  for  one  hour's  strength  !  then  the  rush  of 
battle  and  the  soldier's  grave ;  that  around  that  grave,  those 
who  love  me  may  mourn,  not  with  pity,  but  with  a  proud 
sorrow;  saying  'he  died  as  he  listed  with  his  face  to  the 
foe.'  "     No  glory  can  gather  round  the  final  scene  !     De 
spairing  hero  !  he  erred  ;  a  halo  of  Christian  and  national 
glory  has  gathered  round  many  such  final  scenes.    The  up 
roar  of  battle  is  marked  by  no  grander  victories  than  won 
by  the  uncomplaining  heroes  of  the  hospital.     It  is  easy 
work  to  meet  death  when  a  world  is  watching  every  blow, 
ready  to  bind  the  victor's  crown  alike  upon  the  brow  of 
the  living  and  the  dead.     But,  to  fight  a  long,  slow  battle 
with  unconquerable  disease,  while  our  brothers  are  meet 
ing  the  foe  on  the  ensanguined  field,  whence  our  spirits 
fly,  calls  for  a  loftier  courage  than  that  which  places  the 
banner  of  the  "forlorn  hope"  on  the  citadel  of  the  enemy. 
Then,  one  all-comprehensive  thought  of  home  and  loved 
ones,  one  grand  rush  and  victory  or  death.     Not  so,  him 
who  sees  Death  an  already  crowned  victor,  walking  the 
wards  of  the  hospital  to  his  cot.     He  has  time  for  the 
anguish  of  parting.    He  mourns  at  what  seems  to  him  an 
almost  inglorious  death.     He  saddens-  as  he  thinks  how 
his  aged  parents  will    weep  to  hear  their  only  boy  in 
death  is  lying  low,  or  else  forgetting  he  is  dead,  will  sit 
and  listening  wait  for  his  step  upon  the  garden  walk,  his 
hand  upon  the  gate.     He  knows  that  a  sister's  eyes  would 


108  LIFI:  WITH  Tin:  FORTY-NINTH 

lla-h  could  slic  l)iit  hear  that  lie  had  nobly  fought  and 
bnivrly  died;  that  pride  would  mingle  with  a  \\i\\-'- 
rows  to  learn  that  in  the  thickest  oft  IK-  si  rile,  liet////////'//;/ 
fell,  and  for  the  lionor  of  the  dear  old  Hag,  he  yielded  up 
his  life.  He  thinks  .>f  hi-;  boy  and  im.^gines  that  in  life's 
battle,  he  would  light  the  better  and  the  braver  to  know 
his  father's  soul  went  out  to  God  upon  the  fluid  of  strife. 
"War  has  no  sadder  chapter  than  that,  which  records  the 
struggles  of  the  true  soldier,  when  he  finds  that  God  has 
ordained  the  hospital,  not  the  field,  as  his  place  of  mar 
tyrdom.  It  is  t/n'x  that  lends  bitterness  to  death,  and 
hard  the  struggle  before  the  sinking  soul  can  exclaim, 
"Thy  will  be  done." 

Soon,  we  may  add  to  our  "  fallen  brave  "  those  who 
die  as  soldiers  crave  to  die.  I  would  inscribe  an  humble 
"In  Memoriam"  to  the.  heroes  of  the  hospital.  Death 
tired  of  waiting  for  the  hour  of  carnage,  lias  reaped  many 
into  the  lonely  graves  that  deck  the  shores  of  the  Missis 
sippi,  since  I  last  wrote  to  you.  I  wish  I  were  better  ac 
quainted  with  their  lives  that  I  might  do  them  justice. 

William  J.  Glead  (B),  a  farmer  boy  from  Otis,  aged 
nineteen,  died  here  of  fever,  April  14.  He  was  a  stranger 
to  me.  I  only  know  him  as  a  good  soldier. 

Caleb  C.  llinman,  of  the  same  company,  died  of  fever, 
April  1C.  His  age  was  twenty-two  years.  He  was  a 
farmer  from  Becket.  He  was  unmarried. 

Isaac  V.  Wilcox  (I))  was  cut  down  by  fever,  April 
18.  I  attended  his  funeral.  We  buried  him  near  Stetson 
(K),  sad  to  bury  him  in  his  early  prime  (he  was  but 
twenty  years  old),  trebly  sad  to  know  that  he  was  the 
third  one  of  our  number  who  was  borne  that  same  day  to 
burial.  We  lired  the  volleys  over  his  grave,  and  thought 
of  a  home  in  l>arringtmi,  over  which  a  great  darkness 
was  settling,  and  returned,  realizing  that  one,  who,  though 
weak  in  body,  was  ever  ready  and  faithful  as  a  soldier, 
would  no  more  greet  us.  Beloved  in  life  by  all,  he  was. 
We  love  him  no  less  now.  A  mother  gave  two  of  her 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEER.',.  190 

boys  to  the  service.  God  has  seen  fit  to  make  the  gift 
of  one  an  eternal  gift.  Happy,  the  parent  who  turns 
away  from  this  bereavement  with  a  deeper,  purer  love  of 
country. 

In  Shelden  E.  Gibbs's  death  by  fever,  April  21st,  Co.  F 
lost  a  quiet,  fine  soldier,  and  Stockbridge,  a  good  citizen. 
He  was  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  and  a  daguerrian  by 
occupation. 

George  Kolby  (D),  of  Barrington,  died  April  21st,  at 
this  place.  His  age  was  twenty-seven  years.  He  was  a 
German,  the  stoutest  man  in  his  company;  one,  who  all 
prophesied,  was  most  likely  to  endure  the  wear  and  tear 
of  a  soldier's  life.  Death  met  him,  as  he  meets  so  many 
in  this  climate,  in  the  form  of  diarrhoea.  He  leaves  a  wife 
and  two  children  to  mourn  his  early  death. 

James  A.  Jourdan  (Bj  died  of  fever,  April  22.  He  was 
a  farmer  from  New  Ashford,  and  though  thirty-six  years 
of  age,  leaves  no  family.  He  was  a  good  soldier. 

On  the  same  day,  of  diarrhoea,  Co.  B  lost  a  good  moral 
man,  and  an  excellent  soldier,  in  the  person  of  Isaac  Den- 
slow,  firmer,  of  Becket.  His  age  was  thirty-nine  years. 
He  leaves  a  family  to  remember  the  Forty-ninth  with  sad- 
ness^  He  was  a  nurse  in  one  of  our  hospitals.  Death  met 
him,  and  wife  and  children  were  far  away,  strangers 
nursed  him,  and  comrades  buried  him. 

Ebenezer  Hinman,  farmer,  of  Sheffield,  aged  fifty-nine, 
died  of  diarrhoea,  in  our  camp  hospital,  April  24.  Pie  was 
the  oldest  man  in  the  regiment,  and  while  he  had  health 
could  do  and  endure  as  much  as  any  other,  but  like  old 
men,  and  especially  in  this  climate,  he  had  but  little  re 
served  strength  to  fall  back  on  in  the  time  of  sickness. 
He  came  with  us,  because  the  members  of  Co.  E  wanted 
his  advice  and  care.  Though  garrulous,  Captain  (he  was 
once  a  militia  officer  and  quite  well  posted)  Hinman  was  a 
nice  old  man,  of  excellent  principles,  and  died  with  so 
pleasant  a  smile  on  his  face,  that  we  thought  he  must 
have  "  laid  down  to  pleasant  dreams." 


200  :    WITH    THE    FOTITY-XINTn 

Nelson  M.  Case  (F),  of  Sandisfield,  aged  twenty-two 
yon"  !>  fever,  in  the  hospit-al,  at  thi<  place,  April 

T.  .M.  Judd,  his  brother-in-law,  was  hastening  t" 
him,  but  Death  travelled  more  rapidly,  and  XeKon  di«-d 
without  a  brother's  presence.  lie  was  a  good  soldier. 
That  is  a  mutter  of  course,  for  he  was  a  C///vV;</// 
soldier.  Early  had  he  dedicated  himself  to  God,  and  lie 
entered  the  army  as  a  matter  of  duty.  An  only  son,  his 
parents  could  illy  spare  him,  and  by  pecuniary  arguments, 
tried  to  c  mince  him  that  duty  and  interest  pointed  tc 
his  remaining  at  home.  He  felt  his  country  claimed  his 
services,  and  they  were  cheerfully  rendered.  lie  was 
pleasant  in  his  life,  and  though  sorrowing  parents,  in  their 
"loneliness,  may  find  it  hard  to  see  that  his  early  death 
conduced  to  a  nation's  welfare,  yet  his  grave  eloquently 
patriotism.  Ills  brother-in-law  has  had 
his  remains  exhumed,  that  the  soil  that  gave  him  birth 
may  also  give  him  a  final  burial. 

Sandiflfield  has  lost  another  of  her  citizens.  Milton 
Smith  (II),  aged  forty-four  years,  died  April  28th.  He 
was  cook  for  his  company.  I  believe  he  leaves  a  family 
He  W.MS  sustained  in  death  by  a  trust  in  Christ.  He  so 
lived  amid  the  temptations  of  camp,  that  all  unite  inlay 
ing,  ';  a  <jn»<1  man  has  gone  to  his  eternal  rest." 

Waldo  R.  Fargo  (F).  of  Monterey,  died  here  May  2. 
He  wa-  one  <»f  our  lifers.     He   was  but  twenty  years  of 
;  i  home  to  share  the  privations  of  his 

soldier  comrade-;.  lie  was  an  excellent  penman  and 
accountant  ;  one  of  those  bright  young  men  whose 
cause<  us  to  f'vl  that  this  war  may  K>  a  blessing,  but  a 
j-ht  with  the  most  precious  part  of  our  wealth. 
At  home  and  abroad,  was  Waldo  esteem  ••!.  With  him  I 
close  the  sad  list*  It  may  be  a  ylni'tuim  list,  but  so  covered 
with  blasted  hopes,  that  many  years  will  roll  away  before 
weeping  eyes  can  fully  discern  the  glory.  They  sleep  in 
their  quiet  graves,  a  small  portion  of  the  host  of  New 
England's  dead. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  201 

'  Oh !  chant  a  requiem  for  the  brave,  the  brave  who  are  no  more, 
New  Erjglaud'rf  dead  !  in  honored  rest  they  sleep  on  hill  and  shore  ; 
From  where  the  Mississippi  now  in  freedom  proudly  rolls, 
To  waves  that  sigh  on  Georgia's  isles,  a  death  hymn  for  their  souls. 

But  not  alone  for  those  who  die  a  soldier's  death  of  glory ; 
Fuh1  many  a  brave,  heroic  soul  has  sighed  its  mournful  story, 
Down  in  the  sultry  wards  and  cots,  where  fever's  subtle  frreath 
Has  drained  the  life-blood  from  their  hearts,  and  laid  them  low  in 
death. 

As  proud  a  memory  yours,  oh  !  ye  who  murmured  no  complaint, 
Who  saw  Hope's  vision,  day  by  day,  grow  indistinct  and  faint ; 
"Who,  far  from  home  and  loving  hearts,  from  all  yet  held  most  dear, 
Have  died  !     Oh  1  noble,  cherished  dead,  ye  have  a  record  here. 

New  England  I  on  thy  spotless  shield,  inscribe  these  honored  dead. 
Oh  !  keep  their  memory  fresh  and  green,  when  turf  blooms  o'er  their 

head; 
Oh!  deck  with  fadeless  bays  their  names,  who've  won  the  martyr's  crown.11 


202  i.ii  i;   WITH  THE  i-' our v -NINTH 


LETTER    XXV. 

BANKS,  BAT 

May  19,  1863,  10  p.  M. 


CAMP  BANKS,  BATON-  ROUGE,  LA.,  ) 


MY  DEAR  L. : 

The  long  expected  "  forward  march  "  has  come.  We 
are  directed  to  be  in  line,  in  light  marching  order  to 
morrow  morning  at  five  o'clock.  We  fed  t/n'fi  is  no  false 
alarm,  no  feint.  We  are  to  go  home  a  tried  regiment. 
\Yp  sliall  soon  show  if  we  merit  the  proud  appellation, 
"  Massachusetts  Soldiers!" 

Last  Wednesday,  we  marched  sixteen  miles  as  guard 
to  a  supply  train;  thought  the  whole  regiment  was  going, 
but  when  we  found  the  colors  were  left  behind,  we  knew 
there  was  little  chance  to  win  honors.  The  major  was  in 
command.  All  we  did  was  to  carry  food  to  Dudley  and 
return  home. 

Lieutenant  Tucker  (D)  takes  a  position  on  Colonel 
Chapin's  stall'.  It  was  urged  on  him.  I  hope  our  loss 
will  prove  his  gain.  R.  D.  More  leaves  us  to  aid  the 
Brigade  Quartermaster.  C.  French  is  in  the  office  of  the 
Medical  Director.  They  are  both  from  Company  D,  and 
are  detailed  to  do  work  requiring  much  business  talent 
and  clerkly  skill.  More  of  the  members  of  Company  D 
have  been  detailed  to  fill  such  posts  than  of  any  other 
company  in  the  regiment. 

As  we  are  on  the  verge  of  solemn  events,  this  yr>n'c- 
poetry,  as  copied  from  the  tombstone  of  a  cemetery  in 
this  place,  may  be  pertinent. 

"  Hero  lies  buried  in  the  tomb, 
A  constant  suflerer  from  salt  rheum, 
Which  finally,  iu  truth,  did  pass 
To  spotted  erysi; 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  203 

And  again,  "  Hero  lies  the  body  of  David  Jones ;  his 
la^t  words  were,  '  I  die  a  Democrat  and  a  Christian.1 " 
Poor  fellow  !  he  got  party  first  and  Christ  last.  In 
the  closing  hour,  when  men  are  apt  to  see  truth  most 
clearly,  he  may  have  seen  the  incongruity  of  his  two 
professions  and  desired  to  establish  their  co?zgruity  by  a 
death-bed  testimony.  If  he  had  reference  to  modern  De 
mocracy,  it  needed  that  the  testimony  be  made  as  sol 
emnly  as  possible. 

I  heard  a  soldier  pray  at  one  of  tho  negro  meetings, 
that  God  would  hear  the  prayers  of  fathers,  mothers, 
wives,  and  "  the  lispings  of  our  little  ones."  Oh,  the 
power  of  those  little  ones  !  There  was  scarcely  a  dry  eye 
in  the  house.  Plainly,  we  say  our  "  little  ones"  kneeling 
in  prayer  for  us,  for  there  are  few  soldiers'  children  that 
have  not  been  taught  thus  to  pray.  I  hope  that  God  will 
hear  those  "  lispings."  We  are  nearing  the  hour  in  which 
prayer  will  mean  more  than  it  ever  meant  before. 

We  will  march  about  four  hundred  and  fifty  strong ; 
all  of  the  thousand  who  left  Berkshire  deemed  fit  for 
duty,  and  many  of  them  are  not  fit.  The  convalescents 
will  stay  to  aid  in  defending  this  place.  As  our  brigade 
has  been  alone  for  some  timer  we  have  manned  the  entire 
picket  line.  We  leave  behind  us,  among  the  sick,  some 
of  our  most  reliable  men.  Our  marching  against  the  foe, 
without  them,  will  be  one  of  their  heavy  trials.  The  trial 
is  greater  when  they  reflect  that  even  their  absence  from 
the  field  is  not  likely  to  lengthen  their  lives  to  the  day  of 
reunion  with  the  loved  ones  of  earth.  My  next,  if  my 
own  obituary  shall  not  prevent  it,  may  tell  of  battles 
fought  and  won  with  the  blood  of  my  comrades ;  so,  I 
will  prepare  against  that  sad  contingency  by  recording 
our  deaths  up  to  this  date. 

William  D.  Leonard  (K)  died  here  May  12th,  of  fever. 
He  was  from  Savoy,  a  married  man,  aged  thirty-two 
years.  He  is  spoken  of  as  a  very  nice  man,  one  who  at 
tended  to  all  his  duties. 


LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

el  0.  Hells  (D),  farmer,   of   Harrington,  d: 
typhoid    fever  May   1  1th,  aged    twenty  years.      Tin-    i 
nient  lost--;  ;  i  him  a  good  soldier,  and  his  company  :i  line 
associate. 

Scth  R.  Jones  (A),  a  Savoy  farmer,  aged  twenty-two 
years,  died  of  chronic  diarrlura  in  this  place,  May  16th. 
A  few  days  before  his  death  he  came  from  the  hospital 
to  the  camp,  and  his  looks  caused  us  to  hope  that  he 
would  soon  return  to  duty.  The  next  news  was  that  he 
was  dead.  His  captain  speaks  of  him  as  a  tip-top  soldier. 
He  wa-  st.-ady,  much  respected,  and  sincerely  mourned. 

On  the  15th  i:ist.,  Francis  Joray  (I)  died  of  fever,  at 
the  age  of  thi  rs.  He  was  from  Stockbridge, 

and  leave  ;:  family  to  mourn  the  loss  of  their  provider. 
He  was  a  good  soldier.  Though  France  gave  him  birth, 
he  died  in  defence  of  American  prineipi 

Sandisiield  ami  Company  II  lost  a  steady,  fine  man  and 
reliable  soldier  (one  of  my  best,  says  his  captain)  of  diar 
rhoea,  on  the  10th  inst.,  Frederick  P.Seymour,  aged  nine 
teen.  He  was  a  line-looking  man,  and  his  character  cor 
responded  with  his  appearance.  lie  was  a  farmer. 

James  J.  Smith,  aged  thirty-nine  years,  surveyor,  of 
Sandisiield,  died  here  on  the  same  day,  May  IGth..  He 
leaves  a  iamily  to  cherish  his  name,  lie  was  a  good- 
hcarted  man  and  respected  by  his  comrades.  Sandisiield 
has  lost  many  of  those  she  oifcred  for  the  nation's  weal. 
31  ay  their  memories  be  cherished  by  her  citizens  and 
their  examples  imitated.  We  feel  that  death  has  been 
greedy  ;  alas  !  these  are  merely  the  first-fruits,  and  I 
close  this  record  to  go  forth  to  his  h'trcwt.  There  is 
life  in  death.  Our  death  may  l.e  necessary  to  the  life  of 
Freedom.  If  so,  amen! 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  2J5 


LETTER    XXVI. 

BEFOEE  PORT  HUDSON,  LA.,  May  26,  7  A.M.,  1863. 

MY  DEAR  L. : 

Precisely  at  5  A.  M.,  May  20th,  Col.  Sumner  (Col.  Bart- 
lett  being  sick)  led  us  from  camp,  and  without  any  note 
worthy  incident,  we  reached  Merrick's  plantation,  about 
sixteen  miles  from  Baton  Ronge,  where  we  encamped  for 
the  night.  For  the  first  five  miles,  the  road  was  shaded 
with  trees,  and  the  boys  got  along  comfortably.  If  a 
man  has  any  vitality  left,  a  march  through  a  Southern 
forest  is  a  matter  of  great  pleasure.  Every  thing  is  pro 
lific,  and  in  many  places  the  underbrush  and  vines  make 
an  impenetrable  jungle.  The  trees  are  gigantic;  from 
their  branches  hang  the  melancholy  moss,  and  often 
grape-vines  descend  and  take  root,  and  send  up  other 
vines,  till  you  have  before  you  miniature  Banian-trees. 
Vines  of  various  kinds  form  grottoes  that  are  wonderfully 
beautiful,  and  twining  round  stunted  trees,  present  pyra 
mids  of  beauty  that  would  make  our  lawns,  could  they  be 
transplanted,  the  cynosures  of  all  eyes.  Conspicuous, 
pre-eminent  is  the  magnolia.  From  a  bed,  first  of  very 
dark  leaves,  then  of  bright  yellow  ones,  springs  a  large 
whitish  flower,  "a  thing  of  beauty,  and  a  joy  forever." 

The  ravages  of  war  had  marked  the  houses  on  the  road 
since  first  we  marched  over  it.  The  road  itself  was  torn 
up  or  obstructed  in  places.  With  the  usual  amount  of 
swearing,  our  trains  safely  passed  the  Bayou  Montecino, 
and  we  followed  to  meet  the  fierce  rays  of  the  sun. 
Then  the  debilitated  condition  of  the  men  was  apparent. 
Not  seven  alone  fell  out,  as  in  our  first  march ;  their 
name  was  scores.  Many  of  them  were  unfit  for  the  work 


20(5  irii  Tin: 


before  them.     In  defiance  of  the  advice  of  their  comr:: 
almost  in  defiance  of  the  commands  of  their  officers,  some 
joined  us.     Ilonorabh      .          i  by  others,  they  could  not 
excuse   themselves.      From  ;ifar   they  scented   the   battle, 
and  their  con  of  duty  wer.1  so  strong,  that  they 

could  not  st:iy  behind.  Perchance  some  have  a  dim 
sentiment  that  Death  is  on  their  track,  and  that  the  nio- 
;iy  and  loneliness  of  camp  would  but  hasten  the 
ravages  of  sickness,  and  they  have  come  hoping  that 
activity,  excitement,  and  change  of  scene  may  strengthen 
them,  or  that  they  may  strike  one  blow  for  their  country, 
and  find  soldiers'  graves.  Hope  and  will  carried  them 
over  weary  miles,  till  failing  nature  caused  them  to  sue 
cumb.  We  loaded  our  wagons  with  them,  and  thus  ri 
ding  a  while  and  resting  a  while,  their  comrades  —  in  some 
cases  oHicers  —  carrying  their  guns,  they  kept  up,  or  came 
staggering  on  behind.  In  all  their  weakness,  they  re 
membered  that  the  enemy  was  in  front,  and  that  their 
country  needed  every  fragment  of  a  man  who  could  fire 
JSL  gun  at  the  foe.  The  buoyancy  and  cheerfulness  that 
characterized  our  first  march  towards  Port  Hudson  had 
disappeared,  but  in  its  stead  was  a  determination,  a  fixed 
ness  of  purpose,  that  boded  no  good  to  rebels.  Ma"ny  of 
the-e  men  were  fresh  from  the  hospitals;  others  couKi 
have  remained  in  camp,  where  were  some  who  needed 
nothing  but  courage  to  be  effective  men.  Impending 
battle  tries  the  stulf  men  are  made  of. 

We  had  marched  near  twelve  miles,  when  orders  came 
for  Co.  G  to  return  to  Baton  Kongo.  That  company  is 
not  '.'•••///,s'/>c///  composed  of  Christians,  and  as  they  re 
traced  their  steps,  they  showered  on  the  author  of  that 
order  a  volley  of  expletives  not  to  be  found  even  in  Web 
ster's  Unabridged.  Their  return  was  a  maiter  of  rog'vt 
to  us  all,  for  they  numbered  nearly  twice  as  many  as  any 
other  company  —  their  duties  a>  provost-guards  having 
secured  them  from  exposure,  and  consequent  sick 
and  death.  I  regretted  it  for  Capt.  Parker's  sake.  H" 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEKES.  207 

was  too  unwell  to  command  his  company,  so  rode  with 
us,  hoping  to  be  counted  in  the  day  of  battle.  They  may 
find  consolation  in  the  enlargement  of  their  sphere  of 
duties  at  Baton  Rouge,  and  if  the  rebels  learn  the  weak 
ness  of  our  force  there,  they  may  have  an  opportunity  of 
exhibiting  their  prowess  in  battle. 

The  colonel  rode  to  the  ground  in  a  carriage.  We 
greeted  him  with  cheers.  We  did  not  mistrust  the  lieu 
tenant-colonel  and  major,  but  they  were  untried.  In  the 
colonel  we  have  implicit  confidence.  His  voice  alone 
keeps  a  regiment  steady,  it  is  so  clear,  so  indicative  of 
self-possession.  I  never  heard  a  voice  fuller  of  command. 

"  One  blast  upon  that  bugle-horn  wore  worth  a  thousand  men." 

Save  the  firing  on  the  river,  the  night  of  the  20th  was 
uneventful.  We  killed  a  mammoth  ox  to  serve  out  in 
the  morning.  You  can  judge  of  its  condition :  some  of 
us  secured  the  liver,  and  searched  the  animal  in  vain  for 
a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  fat  to  fry  it  in. 

The  morning  of  the  21st  found  us  early  in  line,  and, 
beeftesSj  we  hastily  breakfasted,  and  continued  our  march. 
We  had  inarched  but  a  few  miles,  when  the  battle  of 
Plain's  Store  commenced.  Grover  had  encountered  a 
masked  battery.  I  met  a  pioneer  carrying  a  gun  in  addi 
tion  to  his  axe  and  shovel,  and  relieving  him  of  his  gun, 
took  my  place  in  the  ranks  of  Co.  D.  I  was  but  little 
acquainted  with  the  officers  or  men  of  my  own  company 
(C),  and  between  Capt.  Chaffee  and  myself  there  was 
much  sympathy  in  relation  to  the  great  principles  for 
which  we  were  to  fight,  and  quite  an  intimate  acquaint 
anceship,  so  I  ranged  myself  under  his  command.  Slowly 
we  pressed  our  way.  Soon  wounded  men  and  bleeding 
horses  were  brought  to  the  rear.  Shells  shrieked  and 
bursted.  Our  first  battle  had  begun.  A  strange  sick 
ness  came  over  me.  I  doubted  if  it  were  right  for  me  to 
fight,  and  was  tempted  to  retreat  to  the  safety  of  the 
quartermasters  department  But  that  was  no  time  to 


208  I.1KK     WITH    Til!1.     I  OKTY    NINTH 

reconsider  a  LTravc  question,  so  I  fell  back  upon  the  con 
elusions  I  had  reached  in  quieter  times,  though,  in  the 
fear  and  excitement  <>!'  the  hour,  I  could  n,.t  recall  the 
arguments  that  led  to  thosu  conclusion-^,  and  determined 
I  would  walk  in  the  path  of  duty,  though  it  led  to  the 
jaws  of  death.  I  felt  no  more  fear  that  day,  for  //v'// tri 
umphed.  We  prosed  on  to  the  music  of  shells — a  music 
shrieking,  wailing,  infernal.  They  tore  through  the 
woods,  in  \\hich  (1o.  A  was  ordered  to  skirmish.  Then 
tin-  -I '.Mh  wa-  advanced  beyond  the  isth  Mas<.,  and  the 
liriiiLT  liilh-d  for  several  hours.  Facing  new  dangers,  wo 
ate  hut  little  dinner,  and  endured  the  BuffoC&ting  heat  as 
we  could,  till  a;_jain  called  into  line.  \Ve  reache(l 
a.  laruv  Held,  stacked  our  arms,  and  expected  there  to 
bivouac  for  the  ni^ht,  but  Before  leaving  the  ranks  our 
ears  were  greeted  wilh  discharges  of  artillery.  Just 
ahead  of  us  another  masked  battery  had  been  discovered. 
The  firing  was  so  rapid  that  the  roar  was  continuous. 
Oh,  it  was  ^rand  !  I  never  heard  any  thin^  half  so  in 
spiring.  It  made'  the  Avild  blood  leap  through  the  veins, 
ar.d  stiifcned  every  muscle.  L  had  heard  of  the  "joy  of 
battle."  I  understood  it  then.  "Fall  in!  Forty-ninth;'' 
and  we  wheeled  round,  brin^in^  the  left  of  the  regiment 
(11),  instead  of  the  ri'dil  (A),  in  front.  \Ve  marched  into 
a  dense  wood.  The  roar  of  artillery  was  mingled  with 
the  continuous  volley  of  musketry.  'The  genius  of  treason 
could  have  selected  no  more  appropriate  place  for  a 
kc-d  battery.  T>,  K,  and  ('  pre—  ed  on  till  they 
crossed  a  main  mad,  and  fired  three  volleys  at  the 
enemy.  The  road  through  the  woods  \\  a*  BO  narrow 
that  we  could  sec  but  little  in  advance,  of  us.  Then 
earne,  "About  face!  douhlc-<piick  !"  \Ve  thought  it 
was  an  order,  and  one-lialf  the  regiment  turned  fr^tn  the 
foe.  I  heard  it  plainly,  though  I  did  not  "about  face." 
I  saw  that  a  lar-'e  number  did  not  whee.1  round,  and 
went  forward  to  do  what  I  could.  There  was 

no  panic,  though    the  broken,  routed    l^th   was    tearing 


\l  A    ::  \cill  ;:i  'II:;     \  Mil 

lhroil;di  (Mir  niliL  •;.  As  Soon  :i :;  VV6  '  I  i:  :«'•  >V«  Te<  I  < >ll  I1  111  is 
fake,  we  wheeled  Mini  pre:  Sed  I'm  \\  Ml'd.  We  re.'iehed  I  he 

in.-iiii  road,     A  oaii  ion  \\  ii  \\  :\  |>:iir  «»r  i (- 1  tons  pait 

ii  .  We  could  he.'ir  \\ild  :dioul •;,  .UK!  drew  up  iii  line  of 
l>:illle  (<>  '-reel,  (he  :n  I  v.l  liei  1 1;  •;  foe.  lie  did  mi!  come. 
Tin1  Colonel  ordered  II:,  |o  ehir'-e  kiyonels.  l<\  il  I  o  \\  1 1 1  •  • 
liim,  W6  entered  M  I  neded  Ihickel.  h'iiuliii";  lh:i.l  m-illnM- 
in. in  nor  |»c:i.,l.  eoiild  get  Uiroii'-li  Ih.Te,  u  ••  c:iine  l»:ie.k 
and  "changed  Iron!, "  :d\\:iy::  :i  nier  piece  Of  tAOtlc 

Iliu;     lirin-Mii";     iri     inl I  r     :ieeii:;| .  >nie<|      [.<»    ilimiM,     :ind 

lii:irelied  l>:ieL,  hoping  slill  l.o  11.-i.ul.  Hie  reboll,  .In  I, 
:ilie:id  of  us  \V;IM  llie  "•;tll;i.nl,  I  Midi  Ne\\  \'<>ik.  AM  we 
<1:inie  ii|>,  (hey  elur-ed  VNj||,  :,  u,|,|  ,.|,, .,.,-  ;,,.,  -, ,  |  ||,(.  ,,,,,) 

.'Hid     thrOllgh     ill'1     \\ I    .        \\'e    DftitOd     l»\    lln-    ::|MIII    Mild 

wounded,  Irill'  RTerting  OUF  gQZ«,   r.-:iriii".   (In-  light    of  I  lie 
Iii    I     <leM.I    ini'dil    11:1111:111   u::.      Then    \\c    niel    (idi.    An-iir, 
who  SM'M!,   wilh    :ill    I  he   OOOlneS!  fclld  Mi:ivi!:y  <>!'  lln-dr;iw 
in-  r<M,in,  "TliiN    WMV,    i-olonrl,    if   you    ph-M;;e,  \yil  h    your 
rogimont."       The    eohmel     l»o\\'e<l     in     re   |H>II   e,     MIK! 
niMM-hed    inl«i  M.II   <>|H-II   ;|..iee.       Here    I, he    ein-iiiy    II.-M!    ir     in 
lull    i-Mii'-v,  Miid  flie   ;  hells   shrieked  ;ind   l,iir,'ilrd  OTOT   «»iir 

he  id:,  :i  ;  il'  :i.  Ir-don  o|'  li^  lid  ;  h:id  L'celi  lei.  lo-.se.  The 
colonel  ;i,nd  ndjiilMiil,  .-ilone  reniMined  nioiinled.  \V  e  Kepi 

on  ill  "0<>d  order  I, ill  \\e  re:ielled  M  I'eiiec,  i  ,11  .•ilhcr  :  ide 
of  \yliidi  \\<-  lilMrehi'd  In  (he  rd'-e  n|'  (he  \\.)o.|:,.  I  eoiild 
h'.er  ihe  s  pi  i  1 1 1  el'S  lly  iVoiil  llie  I  :  1 1 1  ,  ;i:  iniie-  me  HIM!,  (In- 
v.'i.INu'  of  death  WMS  indeed  lx!lor<!  IIH.  Thoii<di  nol,  •jii.-i.i! 
iii",  il,  W;IM  (jiiile  :i  relief  lo  he;ir,  r'rdil  on  I  he  vorgfl  «>!' 
Ihe  liery  lore:1!,  the  order,  ul,!e  down.1'  \\  e  Ob«yed, 
Shol.  Mdd  shell  phiii"e<|  pMS.I,  us,  \\dii«'h  ••.Denied  no!  IIM!!'  10 

feMiCnl    M:;    Ihe  uiilirol-.cn   r.,M,r   of   ;kclry.       While    I -, 

I. hen-,    \\liMl,    •  eeini'd    :i    new    (cillery,    Mini    very    ne:i,r    us, 

op<-lied      il:       I     6fl    "    '•        of     denlli.        The     eololiel      direeled 
<  '  i|.L    Welle  r   I  (,:!',.  (i  him    i  I       |.o    i  lion.        A  lone,    he   si  eppeij 
inlo    Ihe    d;uk    WOOdt,       A  CMIIIIOII  l,:ill  :iliin.   I.   "i:!/.ed  him, 
lull,    he    :  .-il'ely   r«'l,urned,   im:ilile    lo    "iye    l.ln-    needed   mloi 
nnlion.      The.    lirin;^    lulled    M,nd  <•   M  ed.       L'i'dil,    l.here    (he 


210  LIF;:  WITH  THE  NTH 

:iel  put  ii:5  tlirougli  some  tactics,  so  as  to  increase  our 
sell1  n.     About    that    time    a   corporal    of  Co.  I 

c.une  straggling  from  the  rear.  The,  colonel  wanted  to 
know  what  he  meant  by  being  away  from  his  company. 
He  hesitated,  and  the  major  was  ordered  to  cut  off  his 
chevrons,  t>r  corporal's  stripes,  which  punishment  was 
speedily  iliilicted. 

Soon  after  we  had  silenced  the  enemy  before  us,  the 
battle  reopened  in  the  rear,  near  our  hospital,  endanger 
ing  the  wounded,  and  causing  our  quartermaster  and  his 
stalF  to  run  a  gauntlet  of  fire.  For  three-quarters  of  an 
hour  that  fight  was  kept  up,  and  then  the  enemy  re 
treated.  So  closed  a  day's  fighting,  which  had  lasted, 
with  an  occasional  lull,  for  nine  hours.  The  rebels  were 
whipped  :it  every  point.  Their  dead  and  wounded  left 
on  the  field  greatly  exceeded  ours  in  number.  Our 
troops  bivouacked  for  the  night  on  the  battle-field.  At 
midnight,  General  Gardner  sent  in  a  flag  of  truce,  and 
received  permission  to  bury  his  dead  the  next  day.  Our 
loss  is  nineteen  killed  and  eighty  wounded,  and  a  few 
missing.  Some  of  the  missing  were  found  making  excel 
lent  time  towards  Baton  Rouge.  Tiie  casualties  in  our 
regiment  are  as  follows  :  R.  A.  Green  (A),  ankle  slightly  ; 
J.  H.  Scare  (A),  bullet  passed  through  nYshy  part  of  his 
1  ig.  He,  is  doing  well.  S.  Kettles  (I),  hand  slightly; 
Lieutenant  J.  Tucker  (D),  right  leg.  The  brigade  flag 
made  a  conspicuous  mark  and  drew  many  shells,  one  of 
which  '-xpl>(led  near  Colonel  Chajdn  and  his  stall',  partially 
Stunning  the  colonel  and  shattering  Lieutenant  Tuck 
knee,  so  that  his  leg  had  to  be  amputated.  He  bo>v  it 
well,  and  his  fine  physical  health  will  carry  him  safely 
through  it.  As  soon  as  the  colonel  heard  of  Lieutenant 
Tucker's  loss,  he  sent  a  message  to  him  to  be  sure  and 
have  his  leg  cut  high  enough.  His  own  was  cut  too  low 
down  and  often  he  suffers  mu«-h.  He  receives  our  hearty 
sympathy,  for  he  is  a  valuable  officer,  and  a  genial  < 
panion.  Deprived  of  one  limb,  yet  his  appreciation  of 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  211 

the  sacredness  of  the  cause,  is  such,  that  he  will  feel 
vastly  richer  than  those  who,  by  staying  at  home,  have 
preserved  all  their  members  and  sullied  their  honor. 

In  describing  the  battles  in  which  we  may  be  engaged, 
I  purpose  to  describe  to  you  only  the  part  our  regiment 
takes  and  so  much  of  the  engagement  in  general  as  may 
be  necessary  to  enable  you  to  understand  our  history. 
A  soldier  actively  engaged  sees  a  good  deal  of  smoke,  a 
good  many  men  righting,  and  can  tell  you  but  little  save 
what  transpired  in  his  immediate  vicinity.  We  travelled 
nearly  north  from  Baton  Rouge  on  the  road  to  Bayou 
Sara.  Plain's  Store  is  situated  where  that  road  crosses 
the  Clinton  and  Port  Hudson  road.  It  is,  or  was,  simply 
a  drug-store  and  post-office  on  the  lower,  and  a  masonic 
lodge  on  the  upper  floor.  North  of  this  store,  on  the 
Bayou  Sara  road,  a  masked  battery  opened  on  us,  com 
mencing  the  afternoon's  fight  or  the  battle  proper.  Gen 
eral  Augur  had  pent. a  section  of  artillery  down  the  Port 
Hudson  road,  with  the  Forty-eighth  Massachusetts,  as  a 
support.  You  are  aware  infantry  troops  always  accom 
pany  artillery,  otherwise  a  small  force  of  the  enemy  conld 
spike  or  capture  our  guns.  Suddenly,  and  but  fifty  feet 
from  the  Forty-eighth  Massachusetts,  Miles's  Legion,  com 
prising  near  a  thousand  men,  opened  fire,  -T^he  Forty- 
eighth  ran  down  on  us,  just  as  part  of  our  left  had 
emerged  from  the  wood-path  across  the  Port  Hudson 
road.  Two  of  our  artillery  horses  were  killed,  so  that  the 
gun  could  not  be  brought  off;  it  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  foe,  but  was  after  recaptured.  Our  left  stood  steady 
and  checked  their  advance.  Seeing  but  a  few  men  across 
the  road,  the  rebels  came  on  through  the  woods  to  flank 
us,  and  were  met  by  the  One  Hundred  and  Sixteenth  ISTew 
York,  who  were  behind  us.  Had  we  been  able  to  pene 
trate  the  thicket  when  ordered  to  charge  bayonets,  we 
would  have  hemmed  them  in  between  us  and  that 
regiment,  and  bagged  them  all,  thus  lessening  the 
number  of  future  foes  and  giving  us  much  of  that 


212  LIFE   WITH   THE    FORTY-XIXTH 

honor    which    now    properly    belongs    to    the    gallant 
One  Hundred  and  Sixteenth.     That    regiment    ma>l 
grand  charge  through  the  woods,  and  when  the  enemy 
rallied    near   a  grave-yard,   repelled    it    and    victoriously 
cl<>-ed  the  day. 

Our  boys  acted  well.  It  is  strange  that  they  were  not 
panic-stricken.  'latent ns  might  have  been,  when  <>nl- 
to  "About  face!  double-quick!'1  (we  thought  it  was  an 
order)  amid  the  heavy  firing  of  concealed  foes,  while  one 
of  their  own  broken  regiments  was  tearing  through  their 
ranks.'  One  or  two  disgracefully  fled,  but  the  rest  were 
obedient  to  the  orders  they  understood.  The  field  ofli- 
were  in  front,  where  the  danger  was,  and  when  they 
came  to  the  middle  and  rear  of  the  long  column  (we  could 
only  march  through  the  woods  four  abreast),  and  we 
knew  what  to  do,  we  coolly  did  it.  Sergeant-Major 
Wvlie  was  knocked  over  and  stunned  -by  the  wind  of  a 
shell,  and  several  of  the  officers  narrowly  missed  the  fatal 
blow.  R.  II.  Wilcox  (C)  had  a  bullet  pass  through  his 
rap-box,  belt,  and  blouse,  which  was  finally  stopped  by  his 
pocket  Testament  at  Luke  xxi.,  31.  For  once,  at  leasi, 
he  fdt  the  power  of  the  "Word.  His  life-preserver  wa* 
presented,  through  Dr.  Todd,  by  tlfe  Berkshire  Bible  So 
ciety.  If  spared  to  return,  lie  ought  to  be  a.  life  contribu 
tor  to  that  society.  Captain  (larliek  captured  a  rebel  in 
the  woods  alone.  Our  adjutant  acted  nobly,  riding  his 
little  sorrel  into  the  thickest  of  the  lire,  and  showing 
himself  heir  of  the  old  Boston  pluck.  We  like  him  now 
better  than  ever  before.  Before,  he  appeared  to  us 
only  as  an  adjunct  to  the  colonel.  Not  intimate  with  the 
officers,  not  remarkably  well  drilled,  not  devoid  of  a  little 
of  Boston  self-complacency  (though  always  the  gentle 
man),  and  especially  not  l>:-ing  a  Berkshire  boy,  he  had 
small  hold  on  our  confidence  or  affections  ;  but  we  flf< 
him  now.  If  he  is  not  as  <*ool  as  the  colonel  (who  is?),  he 
is  his  brother  in  courage.  How  soldiers  love  the  brave  ! 
"When  we  were  lying  down  on  the  ground,  and  saw  him 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  213 

quietly  sitting  on  his  horse,  we  concluded,  "  He'll  do ; " 
and  though  he  was  quite  emphatic  in  his  remarks,  and 
not  very  flattering,  when  we  "  about  face,"  we  like  him 
none  the  less.  When  they  were  stepping  back  after  that 
false  order  (we  only  retreated  a  few  steps),  Captain  Hal- 
stead  came  dashing  through  the  woods  shouting,  "  Don't 
be  d — d  cowards."  I  could  not  help  replying  (Massa 
chusetts'  pride  was  up)  :  "  We  are  not  d — d  cowards ; 
only  tell  us  what  to  do."  Chaffee  brought  his  company 
(P)  around,  and  the  rest  followed  suit,  and  all  was  well 
again.  It  was  amusing  to  see  Sergeant  Murray  (D) 
take  a  bewildered  fellow  by  the  shoulder,  wheel  him 
about,  saying,  "  The  rebs  are  this  way ;"  and  when  he  so 
understood  it,  that  was  the  way  he  wanted  to  go.  Be 
fore  attempting  to  charge  through  the  thicket,  we  drew 
up  in  a  diagonal  line  across  the  Port  Hudson  road,  ready 
to  fire.  Every  second  we  expected  to  see  the  foe. 
Strange  thoughts  flashed  athwart  our  minds  ;  the  prom 
inent  one  being,  Will  I  get  a  chance  to  fire  before  I  am 
hit? 

The  next  day,  dispatches  were  read  before  every  regi 
ment  that  Grqver  had  joined  Banks  near  Bayou  Sara, 
and  that  Grant  had  so  invested  Vicksburg,  that  General 
Pemberton  could  not  use  his  siege-guns.  We  cheered 
with  an  energy  that  thrilled  like  electricity.  Oh,  to  have 
made  a  bayonet  charge  then !  Soldiers,  machines  !  Far 
from  it.  The  individual  may  be  ;  the  collective  is  the 
most  excitable,  easily  influenced  object  you  can  imagine. 
General  Sherman  has  come  up  the  river  road,  and  hems 
in  the  rebels  on  the  south,  our  left ;  Grover  and  Emory 
on  the  north,  our  right ;  and  we  on  the  centre.  Beat  us 
or  surrender  they  must,  escape  appears  impossible.  We 
have  a  large  park  of  artillery,  which  is  being  added  to 
by  heavy  siege-guns  from  the  fleet.  The  vessels  above 
and  below  Port  Hudson  may  give  us  some  help,  but  they 
cannot  attack  it  in  front,  for  the  river,  still  falling,  has 
fallen  so  much  that  the  channel  is  too  narrow  for  naval 


-1  l  LIFT:  WITH  THE  FORTY-NINTH 

manoeuvres.  By  assault  or  siege,  the  land  forces  must 
do  the  work.  We  are  in  high  spirits.  We  have  met  the 
foe,  and  liave  not  been  found  wanting.  The  monotony 
and  inactivity  of  camp  life  are  over,  and  we  begin  to  un 
derstand  why  soldiers  are  healthier  on  the  march  than 
while  in  camp.  Our  rations  taste  more  like  food.  We 
have  something  to  look  forward  to,  and  the  prospect  of  a 
rer  battle  experience  calls  out  our  pride  and  our  ambi 
tion  ;  and  awakens  the  determination  to  be  worthy  of 
Massachusetts  and  of  the  cause,  and,  I  may  say,  of  Berk 
shire.  There  is  a  charm  to  us  in  that  word.  "Rally, 
Berkshire  !"  would  inspire  the  Forty-ninth  more  than  any 
other  war-cry.  "Rally,  Massachusetts!"  is  too  large, 
the  individual  is  lost  in  it ;  but  each  one  realizes  he  is  a 
part,  of  Berkshire,  and  is  well  content  so  to  demean  him 
self  that  II  rkxhu-c  may  say,  u  Well  done  !"  For  the  For- 
iu'lith  Massachusetts,  we  feel  sorrow,  not  contempt* 
hey  left  their  colors  behind  them  in  the  flight  The 
One  Hundred  and  Sixteenth  Xew  York  brougKt  them 
•om  the  iield. 

I  visited  Plain's  Store.  It  showed  the  marks  of  war. 
One  of  our  solid  shots  passed  through  the  lower  story, 
tnbowelling  one  man,  while  in  the  woods  was  found 
another  man  torn  in  pieces  by  a  shell.  Another  shot 
burst  open  the  door  of  the  Masonic  Hall,  and  entered, 
ii"t  regarding  the  Tiler  nor  waiting  the  permission  of  the 
Worshipful  Master.  It  was  the  novel  initiation  of  a 
candidate,  who  gave  ocular  proof  of  his  ability  to 
"work"  well.  A  ball  struck  a  piano  in  the  adjoining 
dwelling,  playing  "  Hail  Columbia,"  with  variations. 
Solid  trees  were  cut  down,  whole  panels  of  fence  broken 
•slid  scattered,  and  on  the  ground  were  bushels  of  grape 
and  canister. 

Sunday  morning,  we  marched  nearer  Port  Hudson.  A 
hot  march  it  was.  We  progressed  slowly,  sending  out 
skirmishers  to  clear  the  way  and  prevent  us  fallimr  into 
an  ambuscade.  While  on  the  road,  Gen.  Banks  passed 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  215 

by  and  was  greeted  with  hearty  cheers.  His  looks 
inspired  confidence,  and  the  manner  of  controlling  his 
fiery  horse  bespoke  nerve.  He  pleasantly  remarked  :  "I 
see  straw  hats  are  all  the  fashion."  Of  course  we  had 
to  laugh.  He  was  dressed  plainly  and  wore  a  slouched 
hat.  The  pictures  of  battles  representing  all  in  imposing 
attire  are  far  from  the  truth.  If  the  truth  must  be 
spoken,  soldiers  on  a  march  look  slovenly,  and  the  offi 
cers  appear  but  little  better.  Travelling  in  dust  ankle- 
deep  destroys  all  distinctions  in  dress.  When  marching, 
you  must  not  suppose  the  order  of  the  parade  ground  is 
observed.  So  we  keep  together,  it  little  matters  how  we 
step  or  how  we  carry  our  guns.  We  slouch  along,  talk 
ing,  smoking,  laughing.  I  want  to  tell  you  once  for  all, 
that  a  "  line  of  battle"  is  the  whole  regiment  in  line,  two 
ranks  deeps.  Mass  men  as  they  are  when  parading 
through  streets,  and  scores  would  be  uselessly  slain. 
Formed  in  line,  a  regiment,  brigade,  or  division  sweeps 
on,  and,  if  followed  by  another,' there  is  generally  quite 
a  space  between  them.  The  front  rank  fires  and  then 
wheels  to  the  rear  of  their  respective  companies  and  re 
loads  while  the  rear  rank  is  firing.  This  is  the  rule,  but 
often  the  practice  is,  fire  how  and  when  you  can,  only 
fire  and  that  low,  for  it  is  easy  when  shooting  at  an  enemy 
five  hundred  yards  distant  to  send  your  bullets  over  their 
heads.  We  had  marched  about  two  miles  when  a  masked 
battery  opened.  Fortunately,  it  was  directed  away  from 
us.  Had  it  been  directed  up  the  road,  hundreds  of  us 
would  have  fallen.  To  obviate  this,  one  of  our  batteries 
made  a  detour  through  the  woods  and  we  looked  on  at 
the  artillery  duel  in  comparative  safety.  The  rebel  shells 
mostly  fell  short,  disturbing  nothing  but  some  young  corn. 
Ours  must  have  been  better  aimed,  for  in  an  hour  they 
withdrew  their  battery.  While  the  duel  lasted,  it  was 
very  earnest  and  inspiring.  Through  all  that  Sabbath 
day,  batteries  contended  with  each  other ;  and  at  night 
we  encamped  in  the  woods,  within  a  mile  and  a  half  of 


216  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

Port  Hudson,  rocked  to  sleep  by  a  music  which  is  be- 
c: niiing  quite  familiar  to  us. 

We  are  yet  in  the  woods ;  officers  and  all  roughing  it 
alike.  Our  only  complaint  is  with  reference  to  the 
water,  which  grows  scarcer  and  meaner  the  further  we 
advance.  You  may  judge  of  quantity  and  quality  by 
this  incident.  On  that  Sunday,  I  was  so  desirous  of  a 
drink  that  I  went  over  to  where  the  Indiana  battery  was 
engaged,  a  mile  and  a  half  off,  hearing  that  near  there 
water  could  be  obtained.  Disregarding,  in  my  thirst, 
the  heat,  the  distance,  the  exploding  shells,  I  went  to  the 
spot,  designated.  I  smelt  the  fluid,  turned  from  it  with 
nausea,  and  then  swallowed  one  mouthful,  which  proved 
a  more  speedy  emetic,  than  the  "ipecac."  of  the  surgeon. 
For.  cooking,  we  cart  water  IVoin  the  neighboring  wells, 
meagre  in  quantity  and  poor  in  quality.  A  table-spoon 
ful  serves  for  a  man's  toilet.  Our  main  occupation 
yesterday  was  the  discovery  and  destruction  of  wood- 
ticks,  a  small,  speckled  Dug  with  numerous  legs  to  each 
of  which  is  attached  a  claw.  He  or  she  (it  is  venomous 
enough  to  be  a  "she"  rebel)  burrows  under  the  skin, 
rapidly  causing  a  small  boil,  and  when  you  try  to  pull 
him  off  you  pull  a  piece  of  the  flesh  with  him,  and  an 
irritating  sore  remains  to  add  another  pest  to  your  fond 
recollections  <>f  t!,e  sunny  South. 

Dr.  Rice  has  reached  us,  having  travelled  over  the 
road  from  Ualon  Kongo  alone  and  at  night.  A  battle 
would  be  preferable  to  that  night  road.  Running  his 
horse  saved  him  from  the  attentions  of  some  strangers, 
who  requested  him  to  halt.  Dr.  Reynolds  Iris  been 
added  to  our  medical  strength.  This  fill  ing  up  the  comple 
ment  of  surgeon-  suggests  some  unpleasant  features  of 
the  future.  Colonel  Simmer  narrowly  escaped  capture,  on 
Sunday,  by  riding  too  near  the  rel>  3.  We  could 

illy  spare  him.  We  got  some  fresh  beef  to  vary  our  diet. 
One  of  the  boys  had  such  a  hankering  after  his  mother's 
milk-house  that  he  thought  it  was  a  shame  that  the  milk 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  217 

of  a  dying  cow  should  be  wasted,  so  he  filled  his  cup 
with  that  desirable  fluid  while  she  was  kicking  off  the 
mortal  coil.  Day  and  night  the  men  are  required  to 
keep  on  their  equipments,  a  burden  that  has  to  be  borne 
to  be  appreciated.  We  nearly  lost  a  part  of  our  wagon- 
master  Hulet ;  a  piece  of  a  shell  passed  right  under  his 
foot  as  he  lifted  it  up.  Mr.  Brewster  saw  it  and  wondered 
why  he  did  not  drop.  His  hour  had  not  come,  for  which 
we  are  very  thankful. 

Accompanying  us  is  a  Catholic  priest,  in  a  carriage. 
He  is  amply  prepared  to  act  the  good  Samaritan  to  the 
wounded  as  well  as  "  shrive  the  dying  and  to  bless  the 
dead."  All  honor  to  the  nameless  Christian.  In  con 
trast  is  a  Mr.  Kolty,  a  brother-in-law  of  Lieut.  Siggins. 
One  of  his  sons  was  killed  in  battle,  and  one  murdered 
in  cold  blood  by  a  rebel  officer,  now  at  Port  Hudson. 
He  comes  on  a  message  of  vengeance.  Such  are  life's 
contrasts. 

Last  night  will  long  be  remembered  by  us.  "We 
thought  it  probable  the  enemy  would  try  to  break 
through  our  lines.  Gen.  Augur  prepared  to  receive  him. 
Opposite  the  woods  where  we  are  encamped  is  an  im 
mense  field,  bordered  all  around  by  a  high  fence  and  a 
thick  blackberry  hedge.  At  right  angles  to  the  Port 
Hudson  road  is  a  lane.  Part  of  our  brigade  was  placed 
in  the  main  road  and  part  in  the  lane.  Gaps  were 
made  in  the  fence  for  our  artillery.  An  open  half  mile 
was  before  us.  Hid,  as  we  were,  they  could  not  see  us. 
Had  they  come,  they  would  have  rushed  into  such  a 
slaughter-pen  that  I  shivered  as  I  thought  of  it  and 
examined  the  priming  of  my  gun.  We  lay  down  in 
the  moonlight  and  gazed  across  the  field  so  intently  that 
we  fancied  we  saw  them  approaching.  The  Colonel  rode 
along  our  line,  saying :  "  Be  steady  !  don't  fire  till  I  give 
the  command ;  wait  till  you  can  smell  their  breaths,  and 
then  cut  them  down.  If  I  see  any  man  skulking  to  the 
rear  I  will  kill  him,  just  as  I  would  a  rebel."  We  waited 
10 


218  LIFE    WITH    THK    FORTY-NINTH 

for  hours,  but  no  enemy  came ;  though  heavy  firing  on 
the  right  kept  us  in  constant  expectation  of  thoir  pres 
ence.  In  the  hush  of  night,  hearing  nothing  but  the 
suppressed  breathing  of  our  comrades,  waiting  ti^o  mo 
ment  of  slaughter,  the  quiet  moon  gazing  down  on 
us,  as  if  teaching  that  our  warfare  disturbed  not  the 
serenity  of  Heaven,  yet  furnishing  us  with  an  approving 
light,  we  grasped  our  guns  and  gazed  o'er'  the  fieldj 
peopling  it  with  the  advancing  foes  of  God  and  hu 
manity.  It  was  a  weird  and  never  to  be  forgotten 
scene.  At  last  we  were  allowed  to  sleep  on  our 
arms,  a  few  keeping  watch ;  and  so  passed  the  night 
•  jiiietly  away,  though  an  occasional  gun  would  cause  us 
to  grasp  more  tightly  our  weapons  and  to  sleepily  open 
our  eyes  to  see  nothing  but  the  quiet  moon  keeping 
sacred  watch  above  us.  As  the  morning  dawned,  we 
rose  from  the  ground  and  from  fence  corners  and  wended 
our  way  back  to  camp  and  coffee.  There  are  rumors 
afloat  that  this  is  to  be  an  eventful  day,  so  I  will  bring 
this  letter  to  a  close.  No  doubts  about  being  in  the  line 
of  duty  now  trouble  me,  so  I  trustingly  await  coining 
events,  determined  to  live  or  die,  as  a  higher  power  may 
decide,  in  furtherance  of  the  cause  of  righteousness  and 
justice. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  219 


LETTER  XXVII. 

BEFORE  PORT  HUDSON,  LA.,  May  27,  9  A.  M.,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L, : 

Yesterday  morning  we  were  aroused  to  the  solemnity 
of  a  soldier's  life.  Volunteers  to  constitute  a  u  forlorn 
hope"  were  called  for.  One  field  officer,  four  captains, 
eight  lieutenants,  and  two  hundred  men,  were  desired 
from  each  brigade.  We  were  expected  to  furnish  five 
from  each  company.  As  nearly  as  we  could  learn,  a  part 
was  expected  to  run  from  the  woods  and  bridge  the  ditch 
in  front  of  the  enemy's  parapet  or  breastworks  with 
fascines,  and  then  return ;  the  other  part  to  cross  the 
bridge  thus  made,  and  assault  the  enemy  at  the  point 
of  the  bayonet.  How  great  the  distance  to  run  under 
fire  none  knew,  nor  any  thing  of  the  nature  of  the  ground, 
nor  the  width  and  depth  of  the  ditch.  Of  the  latter, 
rumor  says  it  is  fifteen  feet  wide  and  twelve  feet  deep. 
We  judge  by  the  ditch  before  our  fortifications  at  Baton 
Rouge.  Calmly  the  officers  of  the  different  companies 
presented  the  matter  to  their  men.  There  were  no  at 
tempts  to  awaken  excitement,  no  appeals  to  patriotism. 
The  order  calling  for  volunteers  stated  that  their  names 
would  form  a  "  roll  of  honor,"  to  be  filed  at  head-quarters, 
from  which  to  choose  subjects  for  promotion.  I  think 
that  had  no  influence  with  us.  If  more  than  the  requisite 
number  volunteered,  five  from  the  volunteers  of  each 
company  would  be  drawn  by  lot.  Quietly  and  rapidly  did 
they  come  forward,  as  follows  :  Major  C.  T.  Plunkett, 
Lieutenant  T.  Siggins  (D),  Lieutenant  R.  T.  Sherman  (E). 

Company  A — A.  C.  Howe,  C.  P.  Adams,  D.  Greber, 
J.  Malcomb,  A.  Wiesse,  W.  L.  Burkett,  E.  A.  London, 
L.  Merion  :  8. 


220  LIFE     WITH    THE    FORTY -.NINTH 

Company  B — S.  fl.  Bennett,  M.  Goodell,  A.  V.  Barnes, 
W.  Merchant,  I.  Nourse,  G.  M.  Wood,  G.  Fitzgerald. 
E.  Brown :  8. 

Company  C— J.  N.  Strong,  F.  E.  Warren,  E.  King, 
I.  J.  Newton,  J.  Noble,  G.  W.  Fields,  S.  W.  Tifft,  6. 
Murray,  N.  Cummings,  J.  N.  Knight,  T.  A.  Scott,  R.  II. 
Wilcox,  H.  T.  Johns  :  13. 

Company  D— W.  S.  Gilbert,  T.  Hensey,  D.  Ileacox, 
M.  S.  Reynolds,  E.  N.  Hubbard,  F.  N.  Deland,  C.  W. 
Shutts:  8. 

Company  E— M.  H.  Tuttle,  W.  Amstead,  F.  K.  Ar 
nold,  G.  E.  Callender,  W.  J.  Clark,  L.  Iledger,  H.  S. 
Ilewins,  A.  Loomis,  J.  B.  Loring,  W.  L.  Wilbur :  10. 

Company  F— A.  P.  Silva,  II.  S.  May,  J.  Crosby,  G.  B. 
Potter:  4. 

Company  II — E.  Ingersoll :  1. 

Company  I— Z.  Barnum,  W.  Wilson,  D.  Winchell, 
A.  Smith,  A.  Farnum,  A.  S.  Farnum,  H.  Vosburgh,  R. 
(iroat :  8. 

Company  K — J.  Curtis,  P.  Culver,  J.  J.  Wolfinger? 
S.  W.  Carley  :  4. 

It  was  hoped  that  the  volunteers  would  all  be  unmar 
ried  men,  and  five  of  such  will  be  selected  from  the 
volunteers  of  each  company,  where  it  is  possible.  Callen 
der,  of  our  department,  came  up  on  Saturday,  and  you 
will  find  his  name  in  the  above  "  roll  of  honor."  Though 
I  feared  his  friends  might  think  I  influenced  him  to  take 
that  step,  I  could  not  feel  free  to  urge  him  not  to.  I 
knew  nothing  to  prevent  him,  yet  I  believe  I  feel  more 
anxiety  about  him  than  about  myself.  Hulet  wanted 
much  to  go  and  fiD  up  the  complement  of  his  company 
(F),  but  it  would  not  do  to  so  deplete  our  department. 
We  left  Captain  Rennie  sick  at  Baton  Rouge,  and,  though 
far  from  well,  he  has  followed  us,  but  will  not  be  apt  to 
go  into  the  field,  as  F  and  I  have  been  ordered  to  guard 
the  rear. 

The  volunteers  secured,  sixty-two  instead  of  forty-five 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  221 

(remember  that  G  is  at  Baton  Rouge),  the  fascines  were 
prepared,  by  binding  branches  and  twigs  together  with 
grape  vines,  thus  making  bundles  about  eight  feet  long, 
one  foot  in  diameter,  and  weighing  from  fifteen  to  thirty 
pounds.  I  fear  they  are  too  heavy.  If  lighter,  they 
could  be  carried  as  shields,  if  the  ground  be  smooth, 
which  is  quite  unlikely ;  now  they  must  be  shouldered, 
leaving  the  vitals  all  exposed  to  the  fire  of  the  foe. 

I  would  not  have  you  think  all  our  brave  men  volun 
teered.  Many  a  man  of  family  who  will  demean  himself 
to-day  as  a  Christian  soldier,  left  the  superior  danger  to 
those  less  trammelled,  though  some  felt  that  duty  called 
them  to  the  advance.  I  know  not  why  I  volunteered  ;  it 
seemed  so  much  a  matter  of  course,  as  it  was  the  duty 
lying  nearest  to  me.  I  thought  it  was  but  right  that  /, 
who  had  urged  so  many  to  enlist,  contending  that  Free 
dom  was  at  issue,  should  not  bring  a  reproach  on  that 
cause  by  any  seeming  unwillingness  to  risk  my  life  in 
its  defence.  We  expect  momentarily  to  be  called  into 
line,  and  a  the  five"  have  been  selected  from  no  company 
but  Company  C.  I  volunteered  as  one  of  D,  and  there 
fore  am  still  in  doubt  as  to  whether  I  am  of  the 
elect  or  not.  Amid  the  tumult  and  activity  of  the  houi% 
it  is  quite  probable  that  no  selections  will  be  made,  but 
that  all  who  have  volunteered  will  go  with  the  "  forlorn 
hope,"  save  the  representatives  of  F  and  I.  Major  Plun- 
kett  was  really  disappointed  in  the  selection  of  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  O'Brien,  of  the  48th  Massachusetts,  as  leader, 
instead  of  himself.  I  suppose  O'Brien  was  chosen  be 
cause  his  impulsive,  brave,  Irish  heart  yearns  to  do 
something  to  redeem  the  reputation  of  his  regiment. 
2,000  volunteers  were  called  for  to  represent  forty  regi 
ments  of  infantry.  Judging  by  the  "  Forty-ninth,"  the 
"forlorn  hope"  will  number  nearly  3,000,  one-half  to 
carry  fascines,  the  other  half  to  storm  the  works.  Lieu 
tenant  Siggins  (D)  commands  the  fascine  detachment 
of  our  brigade.  As  Lieutenant  Sherman  (E)  is  sick,  I 


222  LIFE  WITH  Tiri:  FOUTY-NINTII 

do  not  know  who  will  command  our  stormers.  If  we 
have  forty  regiments  before  Port  Hudson,  we  are  less 
than  twenty  thousand  strong,  for  each  regiment  will  not 
average  five  hundred  lighting  men.  We  have  cause  to 
doubt  the  result  of  this  day's  work. 

Yesterday,  after  the  volunteering  and  making  of  las 
cines  were  over,  you  could  find  many  penning  messages 
to  the  loved  ones  at  home.  On  boards,  on  knapsacks,  in 
secluded  places,  they  were  writing,  and  if  some  che<k< 
were  white,  and  tears  rolled  down  manly  faces,  I  think 
you  will  credit  them  to  some  other  cause  than  fear. 
Having  joined  them  in  those  farewell  epistle*,  I  know 
something  of  their  emotions.  Perchance,  the  struggle 
between  love  of  home  and  friends  and  the  love  of  country 
ar.d  duty  was  harder  to  pass  through  than  the  fiery  bap 
tism  before  us.  Some  may  not  have  made  their  wills 
(for  we  have  but  little  to  will  save  government  claims), 
but  many  willed  their  souls  to  God,  or  set  their  last  seals 
to  earlier  consecrations.  In  such  hours,  thought  is  very 
active.  Happy  they,  whose  thoughts  are  fastened  on  the 
."toning  sacrifice,  so  they  can  met  t  man's  wrath,  well  as 
sured  that  they  die,  if  die  they  must,  battling  for  a  cause 
o<ily  les*  sacred  than  that  that  hallowed  (yethsemane  and 
Calvary.  I  will  not  say  "less  sacred,"  for  here,  with  the 
booming  of  cannon  in  my  ear,  T  can  hear  the  great  sufferer 
saying,  "  Follow  me"  It  is  a  part  of  the  same  cause — 
it  is  our  Gethse:nane,  <>///•  Calvary.  This  morning  wa- 
ushered  in  with  the  thunder  of  artillery.  Hastily,  we 
breakfasted,  and  are  now  sitting  in  the  woods,  waiting 
the  "forward  march."1  Serious  and  cheerful  all  seem. 
There  is  no  swaggering,  but  a  quiet  falling  back  on  the 
fixed  will.  More  than  one  face  is  pale,  but  the  firm  set 
lips  speak  of  a  power  that  can  hold  shrinking  nerves 

s'cady,  though  in  the  face  of  death.     L ,  I  may  not 

live  to  see  the  close  of  this  delightful  day,  but  this  morn 
ing  finds  my  soul  more  exalted  than  ever  before.  The 
terrific  cannonading  summons  up  all  my  manhood,  and  at 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  223 

dines  I  so  feel  the  sublimity  of  our  mission  and  the  success 
sure  to  crown  our  sacrifices,  that  I  am  almost  ready  to 
shout,  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  peace  on  earth  and 
good  will  to  men  !"  Through  war,  we  are  pressing  on 
to  a  peace  that  will  be  a  precursor  of  that  time  when 
men  "  shall  beat  their  swords  into  ploughshares  and  their 
spears  into  priming-hooks,  and  learn  war  no  more." 
This,  even  this,  is  more  really  peace  than  we  had  three 
years  ago.  We  are  now  "  working  together  with  God" 
Those  monster  guns  seem  to  shriek  out,  '"Lord,  open 
thou  our  lips,  and  our  mouths  shall  show  forth  if  Ay  praise," 
and  over  all,  under  all  the  thunder,  sounds  the  grand  old 
diapason,  "  God  and  Freedom."  I  am  glad  I  am  right 
here.  I  would  not,  for  much  wealth,  miss  the  grandeur 
of  this  hour.  I  can  form  some  idea  3iow  much  a  soul  can 
live  in  a  short  time.  Here  scribbling,  perchance  my  last 
lines,  my  heart  goes  out  in  thankfulness  to  God  for  con 
trolling  events  so  as  to  lead  to  the  Proclamation  of 
Emancipation.  Graves  are  opening  before  me,  wounded, 
dying  men  are  being  carried  to  the  rear ;  yet,  I  see  how 
much  better  all  the  slain  of  our  battle-fields,  all  the  mar 
tyrs  of  our  hospitals,  all  the  agony,  loneliness,  and  desola 
tion  of  ten  thousand  darkened  homes,  than  a  continuation 
of  our  national  curse,  that  crushed  the  many  and  peopled 
the  abode  of  the  damned.  You  may  think  I  use  strong 
language ;  but  I  feel  strongly,  hope  strongly,  and,  with 
God's  blessing,  will  fight  strongly.  I  know  now  full  well 
that  my  courage  will  not  fail  me.  Help  has  been  given 
me,  so  that,  though  my  whole  system  be  unmanned,  will. 
stiffened  by  a  sense  of  duty,  will  carry  me  through.  1ST  ever 
less  did  I  feel  vindictiveness  ;  but  the  foe  is  in  the  way 
of  this  nation  doing  God's  work,  and  I  shall  willingly  fire 
no  random  shots.  I  am  glad  to  know  that  on  our  right 
and  on  our  left  are  massed  negro  regiments,  who,  this 
day,  are  to  show  if  the  inspiration  of  Freedom  will  lift 
the  serf  to  the  level  of  the  man.  Whoever  else  may  flinch, 
I  trust  they  will  stand  firm  and  baptize  their  hopes  in 


224  LIFE    WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

the  mingled  blood  of  muster  and  slave.  Then,  we  will 
give  them  a  share  in  cmr  nationality,  if  God  has  no  separate 
nationality  in  store  for  them.  "Fall  in, Forty-ninth !"  is 
sounded.  Farewell ! 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  225 


LETTER    XXVIII. 

BEFOUE  PORT  HUDSON,  May  30,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

Having  passed  safely  through  the  bloody  scenes  of  the 
27th,  I  sit  down  to  give  you  an  account  thereof.  When 
ordered  to  march,  we  went  down  the  road  for  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile,  and  there  filed  into  a  corn-field  on  the 
oast  side  of  a  wood,  where  we  remained  for  half  an  hour. 
I  suppose  this  move  was  to  take  us  out  of  the  range  of 
the  shells,  which  we  could  see  bursting  around  us.  Our 
pickets,  under  the  command  of  Capt.  Chaffee  (D),  had  a 
place,  only  less  dangerous  than  the  open  field.  They 
formed  part  of  the  support  of  Holcomb's  (2d  Vermont) 
Battery,  which  kept  up  a  fierce  fire  on  the  enemy,  which 
was  fiercely  returned.  One  shot  struck  a  gun-carriage, 
smashing  it  to  pieces  without  injuring  any  of  the  men 
surrounding  it.  Shells,  bursting  in  the  air,  sending  down 
an  iron  rain,  wounding  several,  made  picket  work  one  of 
no  ordinary  interest-.  While  lying  by  the  wood,  as  I  was 
taking  a  few  notes,  and  the  Major  had  just  observed, 
"  This  will  make  history  for  you,"  an  order  came  that  led 
me  to  the  writing  of  history  with  something  besides  my 
pen.  We  were  commanded  to  return  to  our  camping 
ground  and  bring  the  fascines.  Some  of  the  volunteers 
went,  and  some  who  had  not  volunteered  were  detailed 
to  go.  They  expected  merely  to  carry  the  fascines  to  the 
members  of  the  ,"  forlorn  hope,"  and  then  rejoin  their 
companies.  We  started  for  them,  and  after  stacking  our 
guns,  shouldered  them.  Callender  got  hold  of  a  veiy 
heavy  one,  I  gave  him  my  light  one,  and  with  the  help  of 
Mr.  Kelty  (of  whom  I  spoke  in  a  previous  letter),  car 
ried  his.  When  we  reached  the  place  where  we  left  our 
regiment,  we  found  it  was  not  there ;  so,  almost  fainting 
10* 


226  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY  NIMH 

with  the  heat  (it  was  then  noon),  we  bore  our  loads  on 
ward.  On  the  north  ed^e  of  the  la>t  wood,  U'twcen  us 
and  the  enemy,  we  saw  our  regiment.  <'all  \vas  niadefor 
additional  volunteers  to  join  the  storming  party.  Some 
responded.  I  buiv  my  fascine,  till  General  Augur  met  me 
and  told  me  to  throw  it  down,  as  no  one  man  could  carry 
it.  I  told  him,  perchance  two  of  us  could  ;  but  lie  said, 
"  No;  go  back  to  your  regiment."  I  started  to  obey  him, 
when  I  met  the  storming  party  advancing.  Fortunately, 
I  did  not  stack  my  gun  with  the  rest,  but  strapped 
it  on  my  back,  so  if  I  lost  my  fascine,  I  need  not  be  idle. 
Thus,  I  was  prepared  to  join  our  storrners  and  went  with 
them  the  rest  of  the  day.  You  can  now  see  why  some 
who  volunteered  did  not  go  in  the  forlorn  hope,  and  why 
some  who  did  not  volunteer,  went.  It  was  one  of  those 
mistake.-*  no  one  is  responsible  for.  Those  who  did  not 
volunteer,  yet  went,  bore  themselves  as  bravely  as  the 
original  volunteers.  Capt.  Halstead,  of  Gen.  Augur's 
stall',  seeing  Geo.  A.  Holland  (A),  a  small,  brave  fellow, 
with  a  fascine  nearly  as  large  as  himself,  expressed  his 
doubts  as  to  his  ability  to  carry  his  load,  but  Holland 
*aid  lie  would  like  to  try  it,  which  so  pleased  the  Major 
that  he  told  him,  if  he  came  out  safely  to  report  to  him ; 
he  would  be  happy  to  see  him.  I  send  you  a  list  of  those 
of  our  regiment  who  actually  went  in  the  "forlorn  hope": 

Unit.  T.  Sigginstf  (D). 

Company  A — D.  Greber,  C.  P.  Adams,  J.  Malcomb, 
L.  Merion,  G.  Holland,  II.  Grewe:  6. 

Company  I»— S.  H.  Bennett,  M.  Goodell,  W.  Mer 
chant,  J.  Xourse,  A.  V.  Barnes,  E.  Brown :  6. 

Company  C — J.  X.  Strong,  F.  E.  Warren,  E.  King,f 
I.  J.  Newton,  G.  W.  Fields,  H.  T.  Johns :  6. 

Company  D — W.  S.  Gilbert,  T.  Hensey,*  D.  IIeacox,f 
E.  N.  Hubbard,  H.  G.  Mansir,  F.  N.  Defend,  C.  W. 
Shutts:  8. 

Company  E— M.  II.  Tiittlc,f    J.  H.  Wood,  G.  E.  Cal- 

*  Killed.        t  Wounded. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  227 

lender,!  W.  Amstead,  L.  Hedger,  W.  L.  Wilbur, f  W.  J. 
Clarke,  A.  Loomis,  C.  O.  Dewey  :  9. 

Company  H— E.  Ingersoll,*  C.  Wright,  M.  T.  O'Don- 
nell,  W.  F.  Fuller  :  4. 

Company  K— J.  Curtis,  P.  Culver,  J.  J.  Wolfinger,  S. 
W.  Carleyi*  B.  Devine,  J.  Decker  :  6. 

Though  unwell,  Lieut.  Sherman  went  with  his  company, 
and  acted  bravely,  till  he  fell,  severely,  we  fear  fatally, 
wounded  in  the  head  and  breast.  Capt.  Lingenfelter  (C), 
was  sun-struck  before  going  into  the  field,  so  the  com 
mand  of  his  company  devolved  on  Lieut.  Brooks,  Lieut. 
Foster  being  at  Baton  Rouge,  sick.  As  Capt.  Chaffee 
was  on  picket,  and  Lieut.  Tucker  (who  was  on  Chapin's 
staff)  wounded,  and  Lieut.  Siggins  in  the  "  forlorn  hope," 
Lieut.  Smith  (H)  was  put  in  command  of  Company  D, 
and  led  them  bravely  and  well. 

The  volunteers  of  our  brigade  (to  which  had  been 
added  the  2<1  Louisiana,  Col.  Paine  commanding)  collected 
in  tlje  woods.  In  the  mean  time,  Holcomb's  battery  had 
been  advanced  to  the  front,  arid  opened  a  fire  more  rapid 
than  ever  we  had  before  heard.  It  was  one  unbroken 
roar,  stirring  up  fighting  blood  as  no  martial  music  could 
do.  We  could  feel  the  ground  tremble.  The  wind  from 
his  guns  shook  our  clothes  as  leaves  shaken  by  the  breeze. 
While  lying  there,  a  shell  came,  crashing,  bursting  over 
our  heads.  As  was  natural,  we  bowed,  seeing  which, 
Col.  Chapin  remarked,  "It  is  only  :i  good-morning  to 
you,  boys."  A  piece  of  the  shell  slightly  wounded  H.  A. 
Bristol  (D)  in  the  leg.  Soon  after,  our  whole  brigade 
filed  into  the  woods.  We  lay  there  an  hour,  waiting  the 
signal  of  attack.  In  the  lull  of  the  cannonading,  we  could 
hear  heavy  musketry  fire  on  our  right,  telling  us  that  our 
brothers  were  already  engaged  in  the  fierce  strife.  I  had 
just  carved  "49th  M."  on  a  tree,  when  some  one  (fool 
ishly,  I  thought)  cried  out,  "  In  fifteen  minutes  we  start/' 
A  mortal  fear  came  over  me,  and  a  deathly  sickness.  It 
seemed  as  if  I  had  taken  all  the  emetics  and  purgatives 


228  LIFE    WITH    TIIK    FORTY-NINTH 

known  to  materia  medica.  I  felt  I  could  not  go.  I  was 
unmanned;  and,  amid  all,  my  mind  was  preternatarally 

active,  bringing  up  home,  friends,  things  past  and  tilings 
to  come.  This  was  my  "  bullet  fever,"  my  baptism  of  fire. 
Summoning  up  what  will  had  not  been  submerged,  I 
gradually  became  myself  again,  resolving  to  go  on,  till 
strength  should  entirely  leave  me.  Not  there^  not  there 
to  faint  and  fall,  was  my  prayer.  Let  nature  not  fail  till 
I  saw  the  foe.  That  baptism  over,  and  for  the  rest  of  the 
day,  I  was  as  free  from  fear  as  J  am  now.  I  can  truly 
say,  I  felt  not  the  slightest  resemblance  to  fear,  and  was 
never  cooler  in  my  study  than  in  the  battle-field.  As  we 
were  entering  the  woods,  Dr.  Rice  gave  each  man  half  a 
gill  of  whiskey.  It  was  well  done,  for  tremulously  ex- 
r.ited  as  we  were,  it  was  almost  impossible  to  swallow 
hard  bread  and  salt  beef. 

•At  last  we  were  ordered  to  fall  in.  The  fascine-bearers 
were  in  advance.  Gen.  Augur  said  :  "  Now,  boys,  charge, 
and  reserve  your  fire  till  you  get  into  the  fort ;  give  them 
cold  steel,  and  as  you  charge,  cheer !  Give  them  New 
England !  A  Connecticut  regiment  is  inside,  but  they 
have  exhausted  their  ammunition.  In  fifteen  minutes  you 
will  be  there.  Press  on,  no  matter  who  may  fall.  If  ten 
men  get  over  the  walls,  the  place  is  ours."  We  answered 
only  by  grasping  tighter  our  guns.  Lieut.-Col.  O'Brien 
appeared,  in  a  state  of  intense  excitement:  "'Come  on, 
hoys  ;  we'll  wash  in  the  Mississippi  to-night."  We 
emerged  from  the  woods,  turned  to  the  right  up  a  main 
n  ad.  A  small  belt  of  timber  to  "iir  left,  hid  us  from  the 
.  The  artillery  had  ceased  tiring  ;  all  was  quiet,  till 
passed  that  small  belt  and  came  in  full  view  of  the 
rebels.  Then,  bullets,  grape  ami  canister  hurtled  through 
the  air,  and  men  began  to  fall,  some  crying,  u  I  am  hit,"  and 
one,  u  Oh  !  God,  I'm  killed."  Advancing  a  few  yards, 
we  wheeled  by  the  right  Hank  and  started  across  the  fatal 
iield.  Then,  v\  e  could  see  our  work.  Full  two-thirds  of 
a  mile  distant,  we  saw  the  parapet  lined  with  rebels,  and 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  229 

great  volumes  and  little  jets  of  smoke,  as  muskets  and 
cannon  bade  us  defiance.  For  a  few  yards  the  field  was 
smooth ;  but  difficulties  soon  presented  themselves.  A 
deep  ditch  or  ravine  was  passed,  and  we  came  to  trees 
that  had  been  felled  in  every  direction.  Over,  under, 
around  them,  we  went.  It  was  impossible  to  keep  in  line. 
The  spaces  between  the  trees  were  filled  with  twigs  and 
branches,  in  many  places  knee-high.  Foolishness  to  talk 
about  cheering  or  the  ''double  quick."  We  had  no 
strength  for  the  former,  aye,  and  no  heart  either.  We 
had  gone  but  a  few  rods  ere  our  Yankee  common  sense 
assured  us  we  must  fail.  You  could  not  go  faster  than  a 
slow  walk.  Get  your  feet  into  the  brush  and  it  was  im 
possible  to  force  them  through ;  you  had  to  stop  and  pull 
them  back  and  start  again.  As  best  we  could  we  pressed 
on  ;  shells  shrieked  past  or  bursted  in  our  midst,  tearing 
ground  and  human  bodies  alike ;  grape  and  canister 
mowed  down  the  branches,  tore  the  leaves  or  lodged  in 
trees  and  living  men.  Solid  shot,  sinking  into  the  stumps 
with  a  thumping  sound,  or  thinning  our  ranks ;  Minie 
balls  "  zipping'1  past  us  or  into  us,  made  our  progress 
slow  indeed.  As  the  storming  party  was  less  heavily 
loaded  than  the  fascine-bearers,  we  would  get  ahead  of 
them,  and  had  then  to  tarry  till  they  got  in  advance. 
They  were  our  bridge.  If  they  failed  or  fell;  we  were 
helpless.  With  anxiety  and  despairing  sorrow  we  saw 
them  fall,  some  from  bullets  and  some  from  sheer  exhaus 
tion.  Seeing  Callender  down,  I  said,  "  For  God's  sake, 
up  jny  boy,  we  can  do  nothing  without  you."  He  cried, 
"  Go  on  !  go  on  !  I'm  wounded."  Turning  my  eyes,  I  saw 
Lieut.  Siggins  drop  his  sword,  put  his  hands  to  his  mouth, 
from  which  the  blood  was  gushing  in  torrents.  It  was  no 
time  to  help  him,  so  on  we  pressed.  Soon  a  bullet  came 
tearing  through  the  left  sleeve  of  my  blouse.  I  thought 
bat  little  of  it.  My  one  thought  was,  will  enough  of  the 
fascine-bearers  be  spared  to  bridge  the  ditch.  Again  we 
had  got  in  advance  of  them.  They  looked  more  like 


230  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

loaded  mules  than  men.  Nearly  all  of  them  were  behind. 
They  could  not  keep  up.  As  I  watched,  I  could  see  one 
afier  another  drop,  and  ruiind  me  voices  moaned  out — 
'4OGod!  O  God!"  and  bleeding  men  dragged  th«-m- 
selves  to  the  safe  side  of  the  felled  trees.  Some,  too 
badly  wounded,  lay  where  they  fell,  all  exposed  to  the 
deadly  rain.  I  saw  no  more  of  the  fascine-bearers,  but 
the  white  flag  of  Massachusetts  passing  by,  I  followed. 
It  was  the  State  colors  of  the 48th  Massachusetts.  Soon  the 
standard-bearer  was  killed;  an  officer  grasped  the  colors 
and  waved  them  aloft.  In  less  than  half  a  minute,  his 
blood  had  dyed  the  white  silk  of  the  banner.  We  had 
then  got  within  forty  rods  of  the  parapet.  Save  a  few 
.'red  soldiers,  we  were  alone.  Officers  we  saw  none, 
i  >\vn  \ve  lay.  Five  of  us  were  together,  and  were 
congratulating  each  other  on  our  safety.  One  poor  fellow 
had  just  put  down  his  canteen,  from  which  he  had  been 
drinking,  when  a  bullet  passed  through  it  into  hi>  leg. 
He  sought  the  protection  of  the  nearest  log.  In  less  than 
five  minutes  I  was  the  only  unwounded  one  of  the  party, 
and  a  bullet  had  rent  my  blouse  right  over  the  heait. 
Having  no  protection  but  a  few  thin  branches,  I  iV-11  back 
a  few  rods  where  the  branches  were  thicker.  15y  this 
time  I  was  nearly  exhausted,  so  I  threw  do\vn  my  gun 
and  rested  awhile.  Campion  (  D)  and  a  1  loth  boy  were  to 
my  left,  and  soon,  Curtis  (K),  one  of  ?h:-  fascine-bearers 
joined  us.  Finding  it  was  useless  to  carry  his  burden  any 
longer,  he  had  tin-own  it  aside,  and  was  seeking  a  gun 
and  cartridges.  A  wounded,  man  gave  him  his.  While 
re>ting,  the  116th  soldier  felt  worried  that  I  did  not  lire. 
I  asked  him,  "what's  the  u>e  ?"  "It  will  show  your 
good-will  anyhow,"  was  the  brave  fellow">  an  \ver. 
Rather  amused  at  having  my  "good-will"  impeached, 
and  having  got  breath  again,  I  went  (^  work,  firing  al».»ut 
twenty  rounds  in  the  direction  of  --un,  whic  i 

could  only  guess  at   by  the  smoke.     My  gun  got   so  hot 
and  foul  that  I   dared  fire  it   no  more.     At  one  time  I 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  231 

thought  a  bullet  grazed  and  burned  me;  it  was  my  hand 
coming  in  contact  with  the  brass  of  my  cartridge-box. 
The  sun  had  made  it  so  hot  that  I  could  not  touch  it. 
Heat  and  smoke  and  powder  produce  an  intense  thirst. 
Gun-shot  wounds,  at  first,  are  not  very  painful,  only 
numbing,  but  they  are  followed  with  feverish  thirst.  The 
cries  of  the  wounded  for  water  were  heart-rending.  I 
brought  a  lemon  to  soothe  me  in  case  of  accident.  I  tried 
to  keep  it,  thinking  I  would  need  it,  but  the  wailing  of 
the  wounded  was  too  touching,  so  I  comforted  one  of  the 
bleeding  ones  with  it.  God  bless  the  dear  boys !  they 
did  not  complain  nor  lose  their  interest  in  the  fight. 
Hearing  that  we  were  short  of  cartridges,  they  would 
roll  over  and  painfully  t:\ke  oif  their  cartridge-boxes  and 
throw  them  to  us.  One  good  fellow,  who  was  wounded 
in  the  leg,  threw  himself  on  his  back  and  fired  as  rapidly 
as  he  could  load  his  piece.  We  had  been  there  nearly 
an  hour,  and  as  the  fire  slackened,  Colonel  O'Brien  came 
springing  across  the  logs,  waving  his  sword,  -shouting, 
"Charge!  boys,  charge!"  I  put  my  bayonet  on,  and 
rose  up  to  "  charge."  Seeing  less  than  a  dozen  men 
ready  to  obey  the  order,  I  laid  down  again,  knowing  that 
obedience  thereto  was  only  a  reckless  casting  away  of 
life.  In  half  a  minute,  just  ahead  of  me,  he  fell  dead. 
Rash,  but  brave,  he  did  what  he  could  to  redeem  the 
tarnished  honor  of  his  regiment. 

As  we  entered  the  field,  we  veered  to  the  left,  and  the 
regiment  to  the  right.  I  stood  up,  hoping  to  see  our 
boys.  It  was  not  prudent  to  stand  very  long,  bat  I  saw 
a  body  of  men,  their  flags  waving  in  advance  of  all,  and 
thought  I  could  distinguish  the  dark  blue  pants  of  the 
Forty-ninth.  I  was  right,  for- 1  afterwards  learned  that 
the  men  I  saw  were  the  Forty-ninth  and  Second  Louisi 
ana.  Oh,  how  grand  and  beautiful  did  that  old  flag  look 
amid  the  smoke  of  battle!  How  majestic  compared  with 
the  sinister  stars  and  bars  that  floated  defiantly  on  the 
parapet  before  us  !  T  -ward  the  close  of  the  engagement, 


232  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

wo  were  exposed  to  much  clanger  by  shots  from  our  rear. 
Some  men,  too  cowan lly  to  come  up,  were  firing  from 
the  woods,  half  a  mile  distant.  All  over  the  front  of  the 
ii  'Id,  you  could  hear  the  cry,  "  Fire  higher."  I  know  not 
if  any  were  hurt,  but  some  narrowly  escaped  w minds  and 
death  at  the  hands  of  these  cowardly  comrades.  By 
this  time  the  whole  brigade  had  sought  shelter,  and  was 
pouring  into  the  enemy  a  stream  of  lead  that  kept  them 
from  the  parapet  and  from  working  their  guns.  Had 
another  "forlorn  hope"  with  another  brigade  then  at 
tacked  the  fort  under  the  protection  of  our  fire,  Port 
Hudson  would  now  be  ours.  Yet,  perchance  their  cessa 
tion  from  firing  may  have  been  the  result  of  massing  their 
forces  against  Sherman  on  the  left,  for  he  did  not  attack 
till  near  two  hours  after  we  did.  I  took  advantage  of  the 
comparative  quiet,  and  it  was  only  comparative,  to  find 
{nontenant  Siggins,  Callender,  and  some  others  of  our 
wounded.  I  found  poor  Siggins  unable  to  speak  ;  a  ball 
had  entered  his  mouth,  passed  out  of  his  throat,  and  then 
struck  his  arm.  He  wrote  to  me  for  drink.  I  got  him 
ae  coffee,  but  he  could  not  swallow  it.  He  wanted  me 
to  take  him  off  the  field,  but  that  was  impracticable,  and 
would  only  have  endangered  several  lives.  1  consulted 
with  some  officers,  who  told  me  it  would  be  in  vain  to 
go  for  medical  help.  Our  sum-cons  and  as>i-t-!nts  plar.-d 
themselves  in  quite  as  much  danger  as  they  had  a  ruvht. 
to  do.  Si^Lrins  pointed  to  the  regiment,  and  gathered  up 
sufficient  strength  to  say,  "Go."  Hunting  the  regiment 
on  such  a  field,  and  under  lire,  was  an  unnecessary  expo 
sure,  and  could  result  in  no  service,  so  I  did  not  go,  but, 
finding  a  sheltered  place,  threw  myself  down  and  slept. 
}*>y  that  you  can  judge  of  my  exhaustion.  I. had  hoped 
the  battle  hour  would  bring  so  much  excitement  that  I 
would  be  strong,  but  my  experience  was  like  that  of 
others;  exhaustion  absorb'-l  excitement.  A  man,  on 
such  occasions,  uses  up  a  great  deal  of  his  vital  energy. 
How  long  I  slept,  I  know  not,  but  when  I  awoke,  some 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  233 

were  stealthily  carrying  off  the  wounded  on  rubber  blan 
kets,  of  which  we  obtained  a  few  from  the  dead.  For  a 
while  we  would  creep  along  with  our  bleeding  burdens, 
almost  on  all-fours,  expecting  every  moment  to  be  greeted 
with  a  shower  of  grape.  That  shower  coming  not,  we 
became  bolder,  and  walked  erect,  and  soon  bearing  away 
the  wounded,  occupied  all.  Why  the  enemy  did  not  fire 
on  us  as  we  were  retreating,  we  cannot  imagine.  Accord 
ing  to  the  laws  of  war,  it  is  honorable  to  do  all  you  can 
to  cripple  a  retreating  foe.  Firing  was  going  on  on  the 
right,  but  they  allowed  us  to  retire  unmolested.  It  is 
said  that  some  of  our  men  on  the  right  getting  into  a  ditch 
and  no  chance  of  escape  presenting  itself,  hung  out  a 
flag  of  truce,  and  escaped  under  that  flag,  and  therefore 
the  consequent  cessation  of  hostilities.  I  know  not  how 
that  was,  but  certainly  we  breathed  more  freely  when  we 
reached  the  shelter  of  the  woods.  There,  we  met  a  sur 
geon,  who  gave  us  some  kind  of  liquor.  What  kind  I 
know  not,  but  I  never  tasted  any  thing  half  so  good.  The 
nectar  of  the  gods  was  nothing  in  comparison. 

Leaving  the  field  we  found  the  road  lined  with  ambu 
lances  and  squads  of  men  carrying  the  wounded  on 
stretchers  and  blankets  to  the  hospital,  which  was  only  an 
open  place  in  the  woods  above  our  camp.  All  kinds  of 
rumors  met  us.  The  Colonel  was  mortally  wounded,  the 
Lieutenant-colonel  killed,  the  Major  missing  or  dead,  and 
Capt.  Weller  had  fallen  at  the  head  of  his  company.  A 
sad,  gloomy  time  it  was.  At  last,  I  obtained  these  par 
ticulars.  The  regiment  pressed  its  way  onward  farther 
than  any  other,  save  the  2d  Louisiana.  The  Colonel  was 
on  horseback,  the  only  mounted  man  in  the  field.  He  had 
to  go  that  way  or  stay  behind.  With  his  regiment  he 
would  go.  How  he  got  through  the  ditches  and  over  all 
the  obstructions,  I  cannot  conceive.  His  little  horse  leap 
ed  obstacles  that  seemed  insurmountable  to  any  horse 
flesh.  Struck  with  his  daring,  it  is  said  that  the  rebel 
officers  commanded  their  men  not  to  fire  on  him,  but 


234  LIFI:  WITH  THE  FORTY-NINTH 

deadly  missiles  flew  thick  and  fast  in  thai  valley  of 
•!u  i.ito  which  duty  lei  him;  and  having  gone  about 
.  rods,  a  bullet  slightly  wounded  him  in  the  heel  of 
his  good  leg,  and  another  shattered  his  left  wrist.  At- 
ii -nip!  ing  to  grasp  the  reins  with'  his  right  hand,  he  fell 
over  the  head  of  the  horse,  which  ran  to  the  rear.  It  is 
said,  that  when  some  one  came  to  help  him,  he  asked 
them,  u  Did  you  see  Billy  ?  he  jumped  like  a  rabbit."  I 
think  that  is  true,  for  doubtless  his  main  fear  was  that 
he  could  not  go  with  his  regiment ;  and  though  wounded, 
he  felt  a  soldier's  joy,  that  he  had  been  enabled  to  do  his 
duty,  until  he  met  a  soldier's  fate.  It  was  a  consolation 
to  him  that  the  absence  of  one  of  his  legs  was  not  the 
reason  why  he  did  not  go  farther,  but  rather  one  of  those 
casualties  to  which  every  one  was  exposed.  Our  left 
\\vnt  up,  right  opposite  to  the  enemy's  great  gun,  cha 
with  grape  and  canister.  Their  loss  was  fearful.  Cap 
tains  Gailick  and  Weston,  especially,  had  an  opportunity 
to  s-how  what  stuff  they  are  made  of.  They  kept  the  left 
in  that  torrent  of  fire,  steady  -and  firm.  There  were  no 
braver  men  on  that  hero-crowded  field.  When  they 

Jit  slicker.  Servant  Rising  loaded  the  guns,  and  < 
tain  Weston  iired  near  a  hundred  rounds.  I  knew  that 
Rising  would  not  fail.  He  is  a  Christian  soldier.  Stern 
duty  alone  led  him  from  a  luxurious  home.  Such  men 
never  fail.  Some  shirked,  but  on  the  Christian  soldiers 
no  reproach  can  be  fixed.  Rev.  J.  H.  Wood  (K)  con 
vinced  his  company  that  grace  and  courage  went  hand  in 
Land.  Sernn>n<,  proving  the  reality  of  religion,  its  power 
to  strengthen  and  comfort,  were  preached  on  that  field 
with  an  unction  that  silenced  scolling,  and  crushed  infi 
delity.  Rumor  has  it,  that  a  craven  fear  of  life  dishonored 
some  of  our  own  regiment,  but  among  them  were  none 
whose  banner-cry  was  "  God  and  Freedom."  The  bloody 
rd  of  that  day  shows  the  immense  value  of  a  noble 
idea,  compared  with  the  success  of  which,  life  is  but  the 
merest  dust  in  the  balance.  It  becomes  those  who  pro- 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  235 

fess  .1  religion  that  teaches  a  swallowing  up  of  the  fear  of 
death  to  quit  themselves  valiantly.  They  did  so,  and 
that  reeking  field,  with  some  of  its  slain  and  wounded, 
will  convince  a  whole  generation  that  "  religion  is  not  a 
cunningly  devised  fable,  but  the  power  of  God  unto  sal 
vation  (from  unmanly  fear)  to  them  that  believe." 

Quite  early  in  the"  engagement,  Colonel  Sumner  was 
disabled  by  a  wound  in  the  shoulder,  and  the  command 
devolved  on  Major  Plunkett,  who  did  well,  and  came  off 
safely.  I  could  speak  in  the  highest  terms  of  officers  and 
men,  but  as  well-doing  was  the  general  rule,  and  shirking 
but  the  exception,  I  refrain  ;  for  I  might  inadvertently 
fail  to  mention  all.  It  is  not  my  mission  to  reflect  on 
an}',  neither  do  I  credit  all  the  charges  of  cowardice  that 
come  to  my  ears.  Cowards,  in  self-justification,  may 
accuse  others,  especially  when  they  have  some  real  or 
fancied  wrong  to  revenge.  I  saw  no  man  shirk.  In  the 
"forlorn  hope,"  none  did  less  than  his  whole  duty.  One 
man  with  th'e  regiment  sought  shelter  behind  a  log,  but 
the  colonel's  threatening  to  shoot  him  drove  hirn  to  his 
company  on  the  "  double-quick."  He  feared  the  colonel's 
pistol  and  indignation  more  than  the  grape-shot  of  the 
rebels.  One  fellow  sought  shelter  by  the  wounded  Cal- 
lender,  who  asked  him  where  he  was  wounded.  Alas ! 
he  could  not  tell.  General  Chapin  was  killed  by  a  bullet 
crashing  through  nose  and  brain.  He  threw  up  his  hands, 
exclaiming,  "  My  God  !  they  have  killed  me,"  and  died, 
one  year  from  the  day  he  was  wounded  in  the  Peninsula- 
He  was  an  excellent  officer,  a  brave  and  good  man.  Per 
chance  he  would  have  been  spared  had  he  not  gone  to  the 
field  in  full  uniform.  T.  Bach  (F),  our  color-bearer,  bore 
the  flag  grandly,  and  though  a  six-footer,  a  conspicuous 
mark  for  the  foe,  escaped  unhurt,  while  every  other  color- 
sergeant  in  the  brigade  was  killed  or  wounded.  Thrice 
did  the  colonel  reprove  him  for  going  too  fast.  Our  ilag 
has  fewer  marks  of  the  battle  than  almost  any  other. 
Some  dodged  to  escape  the  showers  of  grape ;  thai  would 


236  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

'•ause  their  flags  to  wave  to  and  fro,  making  them  more 
liable  to  be  torn.  Bach  dodged  not,  but  walked  proudly 
•t  as  if  feeling  the  dignity  of  his  mission,  and  a  strong 
t  wind  blowing,  kept  the  banner  flying  back,  and  so 
presented  but  a  small  mark  to  the  foe.  If  our  colors  are 
not  so  battle-scarred  as  are  some  other,  not  superior 
•  •owardice,  but  superior  courage  is  the  explanation.  All 
honor  to  him !  The  colors  are  to  a  soldier  almost  as  was 
the  ancient  Shechinah  to  the  Jews.  Those  dishonored, 
and  every  true  man  fools  a  share  of  the  stigma  resting  on 
himself.  High  advanced,  in  the  "  fore  front  of  the  hottest 
battle,""  have  they  ever  been.  We'll  follow  them  to  vic 
tory  or  honorable  burials. 

"  A  fierce  fight  is  a  wonderful  builder  up  and  tearer 
down  of  reputations.  Heroes  vanish,  and  the  underrated 
step  up  to  the  confidence  of  their  comrades.  Before,  you 
may  estimate  a  man  according  to  his  position  or  preten 
sions;  after,  you  know  Ids  true  character,  and  respect 
him  accordingly.  The  morning  of  battle  comes;  an  un 
tried  regiment  is  to  enter  a  new  field,  to  walk  through  a 
fiery  furnace,  which  shall  try  the  inmost  soul  of  each. 
They  advance.  The  fire  in  the  furnace  is  growing  hotter 
and  hotter.  It  is  impossible  to  avoid  the  ordeal  What 
is  in  the  men's  souls  will  certainly  be  forced  6'ut.  The 
enemy  says  nothing;  for  he  has  no  powder  to  lose.  You 
will  hear  from  him  soon.  On  they  march — tramp,  tramp, 
tramp, — and  whiz,  whiz,  come  the  leaden  ounces,  and  rut, 
rut,  comes  the  grape  by  the  half  bushel.  A  dozen,  fifty, 
ay,  a  hundred,  fall.  Xow,  where  is  Colonel  Bluster? 
Sick!  Go  near  him,  and  he  gets  worse;  your  presence 
aggravates  the  disease.  It  has  been  coming  on  ever  since 
the  'forlorn  hope'  was  formed.  Well,  where  is  modest 
Captain  Tagir,  one  we  had  thought  should  have  remain 
ed  in  his  mill  or  behind  his  counter  ?  Walking  quietly 
along  the  length  of  his  company,  noting  each  absentee, 
and  steadying  all  by  a  few  kind,  quiet  words.  Back,  ly 
ing  snugly  behind  a  log,  you  may  see  Captain  Blunt, 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  237 

whose  hereditary  heart-disease  alone  prevents  him  carry 
ing  out  his  repeated  threats  against  the  rebels.  And  there 
is  Captain  Dainty !  the  village  dandy.  He  looks  dirty 
enough  now,  but  you  see  he  has  got  a  blazing  fire  in 
bis  eye  and  in  his  heart.  His  company  will  fight.  They 
don't  laugh  at  him  now.  So  old  idols  are  pulled  down 
and  new  ones  set  up.  The  boys  know  why  this  colonel 
was  sick,  and  he  can  never  control  them  again.  Captain 
Blunt  will  threaten  rebels  no  more  in  their  presence. 
That  two  hours'  fight  was  like  a  sieve  into  which  a 
shovelful  of  gravel  had  been  thrown.  The  sieve  was  most 
terribly  shaken  ;  the  sand  fell  through,  and  only  the  peb 
bles  remained. 

"It  is  curious  to  note  the  diseases  affecting  certain 
soldiers  on  receiving  news  of  an  impending  battle.  Sick 
ones  leave  the  hospitals,  and  well  ones  seek  to  occupy  the 
beds  just  vacated.  The  bully  of  the  squad  is  sick.  lie 
has  a  terrible  pain  in  his  right  arm,  his  legs  feel  queer,  his 
head  reels.  Do  you  order  a  coifin  for  him?  If  the  sur 
geon  is  a  little  verdant,  he  will  send  him  to  the  hospital, 
and  in.  a  few  days  boast  of  his  ability  to  cure  diseases.  If 
he  has  been  a  surgeon  before,  he  will  see  that  he  is  put  in 
the  front  rank  on  the  morrow,  or  give  him  corn-gruel  by 
day,  and  blue  pills  at  night.  Then,  there  are  others  who 
are  always  in  their  places  when  the  column  is  formed, 
but  when  the  grape  comes,  they  are  to  be  found  in  the 
rear  with  a  sprained  ankle,  or  terribly  overcome  by  fatigue, 
or  sunstroke,  or  with  a  wrenched  back,  and  are  not  found 
again  till  they  return  shouting  c  victory,'  and  telling  of 
the  way  they  dropped  big  rebels,  who  would  certainly 
have  killed  them  if  they  had  not — '  shirked  behind  a 
stump.  These  are  they  who  make  the  loudest  noise  on 
their  return  home,  and  as  you  listen  to  their  valorous 
deeds,  you  are  surprised  that  any  rebels  are  left  unkilled. 
You  wonder  that  they  jest  over  the  bloody  scenes  of  a 
battle-field,  remembering 

4  He  jests  at  scars  who  never  felt  a  wound.'  " 


238  LIFE  WITH  TIII:  FORTY-NINTH 

By  and  by  you  understand  them,  and  though  they  mny 
not  be  poets,  you  find  they  have  a  vivid  appreciation  of 
Butler,  who  writes, 

"  Those  that  fly  may  fight  again, 
Which  he  can  never  do  that's  slain; 
Hence  timely  running  's  no  mean  part 
Of  conduct  in  the  martial  art." 

"  Bullet-fever"  is  a  real  fever,  from  which  few  are 
exempt-.  To  feel  iear  is  natural;  to  yield  to  fear  is 
cowardice.  Some  never  carry  fear  with  them  into  the 
battle-lieM.  They  leave  it  on  the  fiery  margin.  There, 
they  experience  the  terrible  baptism  of  battle,  with  its 
sinking,  and  sickening,  and  trembling,  which  for  the  time 
unmans  more  than  mortal  disease.  Happy  they  who 
overcome  this  before  facing  the  foe.  Then,  no  danger  of 
]>:.nic  reaching  f/iatt.  Having  conquered  their  own  hearts 
and  nerves,  they  may  be  killed  but  not  subdued.  It  is 
irlll  that  counts  in  the  composition  of  the  brave.  If  there 
be  'enough  of  pride,  of  moral  strength,  to  call  up  ?/v7£,  you 
have  the  unflinching  soldier.  Weakness  of  will  is  often 
counteracted  by  strong  convictions  of  duty.  I  will  do  my 
'.h'fy  has  made  many  a  timid  heart  brave  ;  ay,  kept  them 
steady  before  Death,  though  their  nerves  trembled  at 
every  burst  of  artillery,  every  "  zipping1'  of  a  bullet. 
They  \vho  experience  this  baptism  suddenly,  when  in 
actual  conflict,  will  become  panic-stricken  and  spread 
the  leprosy  of  fear  over  a  whole  regiment,  perchance,  a 
whole  army.  A  man  may  go  through  several  conflicts 
and  never  be  thus  tried.  Constant  excitement,  a  series 
of  victories  may  delay  the  hour  of  his  soul's  trial.  At 
Plain's  Store,  we  were  rushed  into  the  midst  of  danger  so 
unexpectedly  that  activity  and  excitement  precluded  that 
baptism.  Not  so  on  the  27th.  For  twenty-four  hours 
we  faced  the  question  and  endured  the  ordeal.  Strength 
ened,  we  passed  through  it,  and  made  the  "  Forty-ninth" 
not  unworthy  to  be  ranked  as  Massachusetts  soldiers.  I 
have  written  much  about  emotions  and  experiences.  I 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  239 

could  not  have  done  so  the  day  after  the  battle.  Then,  it 
would  have  seemed  profane.  Now,  it  is  easy.  Soldiers, 
living  on  the  verge  of  death,  may  not  become  indifferent 
to  slaughter  and  wounds,  but  they  regard  them  with 
much  less  concern  than  do  you  who  only  read  of  them, 
and  soon  rise  above  their  sadness.  It  is  well  that  it  is 
so.  A  constant  exercise  of  sympathy  would  illy  prepare 
us  for  our  stern  work.  Morbidly  afraid  at  home  of  the 
sight  of  blood,  it  affected  me  none  on  the  field  ;  though  I 
nearly  succumbed  when  I  visited  the  hospital  on  the  28th. 

To  return  to  the  regiment.  I  give  you  a  list  of  our 
killed  and  wounded.  You  will  see  that  Captain  Weller 
is  not  among  the  slain,  but  it  is  not  his  fault,  for  he  was 
conspicuous  among  the  brave.  From  our  own  men,  and 
from  men  of  other  regiments,  I  hear  his  valor  spoken  of 
in  the  highest  terms.  Though  wild  and  rollicking,  we 
never  heard  Weller  swearing  that  he  would  do  great 
things,  but  when  the  time  came  he  did  them.  Francis 
nobly  seconded  his  efforts,  and  together  they  received 
the  unflinching  support  of  Co.  A.,  than  which  there  is 
no  braver  company. 

Colonel  W.  F.  Bartlett,  wounded ;  left  wrist,  severely ; 
right  foot,  slightly. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  S.  B.  Sumner,  wounded ;  left  shoul 
der,  slightly. 

Company  A. — Killed  :  L.  M.  Davis.  Wounded  :  Captain 
Weller,  leg,  slightly;  Lieutenant' Francis,  head,  slightly; 
J.  Bryce,  right  arm  amputated ;  M.  H.  Horton,  head, 
slightly ;  C.  E.  Platt,  leg,  slightly ;  W.  Reed,  head, 
slightly;  H.  Rucktashell,  side,  slightly;  J.  Rodgers, 
knee,  slightly ;  W.  Tuggey,  neck,  badly ;  H.  L.  Root, 
leg,  slightly. 

Killed,  1.     Wounded,  10. 

Company  B. — Killed :  J.  M.  Gamwell,  G.  Fitzgerald. 
Wounded  :  Lieutenant  Kniffin,  arm,  slightly ;  A.  F.  Bliss, 
leg,  flesh  wound ;  S.  H.  Rossiter,  breast,  seriously ;  W. 
D.  Bliss,  leg,  flesh  wound ;  H.  R.  Clark,  side,  slightly ; 


240  l.IFi:    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

J.  A.  Francis,  head,  slightly  ;  S.  L.  Sturtevant,  foot ;  F. 
Belcher,  right  leg  amputated;  C.  H.  Cook,  chest,  se 
verely;  H.  D.  Wentworth,  abdomen,  seriously;  H.  H. 
Davis,  flesh  wound,  leg. 

Killed,  2.      Wounded,  11. 

Company  C. — Killed:  A.  Griswold.  "Wounded:  Cap 
tain  Lingenfelter,  sunstroke  ;  Lieutenant  C.  H.  Brooks, 
leg,  flesh  wound ;  W.  H.  Cranston,  abdomen ;  E.  King, 
leg,  flesh  wound;  J.  H.  Olin,  head,  severely;  J.  W. 
Bowles,  head,  severely  ;  D.  Braumwalder,  thigh  ;  J.  H. 
Wells,  sprained  ankle  ;  J.  Stevens,  shoulder,  slightly. 

Killed,  1.     Wounded,  9. 

Company  D. — Killed :  M.  Bracken,  T.  Ilensey,  M.  S. 
Reynolds.  Wounded:  Lieutenant  T.  Siggins,  throat, 
severely;  H.  A.  Bristol,  leg,  slightly;  J.  W.  Evans, side, 
severely;  D.  Heacox,  elbow,  slightly  ;  B.  Shelley,  hand ; 
J.  McGowan,  leg;  M.  S.  Beach, 'back,  slightly. 

Killed,  3.     Wounded,  V. 

Company  E. — Killed :  H.  S.  Hewins.  Wounded : 
Lieutenant  R.  T.  Sherman,  side  and  head,  severely;  M. 
H.  Tuttle,  shoulder,  slightly  ;  G.  H.  Pahnentier,  shoulder, 
severely;  F.  K.  Arnold,  wrist,  severely;  W.  Fogarty, 
hand,  slightly;  D.  Foley,  hand,  slightly;  J.  E.  Hintou, 
wrist,  severely;  W.  Maxwell,  head;  W.  J.  Wilbur,  both 
thighs,  severely ;  G.  E.  Callender,  hand,  slightly ;  A. 
Brett,  side,  slightly. 

Killed,  1.     Wounded,  11. 

Company  H. — Killed  :  Lieutenant  B.  D.  Deming,  A. 
Allen,  E.  Ingersoll.  Wounded  :  A.  Hitchcock,  arm  ;  H. 
L.  Beach,  severely  ;  J.  Vincent,  head,  slightly ;  J.  North- 
way,  hand. 

Killed,  3.     Wounded,  4. 

Company  K.— Killed:  H.  E.  Warner,  S.  W.  Carley, 
L.  Funk,  T.  C.  Shaw,  S.  Dowd.  Wounded :  Lieutenant 
I.  E.  Judd,  groin,  >lightly;  Lieutenant  S.  B.  Gleason, 
thigh,  slightly ;  R.  E.  Phelps,  leg,  amputated  ;  H.  A. 
Parinlee,  elbow ;  G.  W.  Allen,  leg,  severely ;  S.  Brocha, 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  241 

leg;  J.  W.  Bidwell,  head,  seriously;  S.  M.  Fullerton, 
shoulder,  slightly;  G.  Waller,  leg;  D.  S*  Bliss,  thigh, 
severely. 

Killed,  5.     Wounded,  10. 

On  that  fatal  day,  sixteen  were  killed  and  sixty-four 
wounded  ;  eighty  in  all,  of  tho  233  men  of  our  regiment 
who  went  into  the  field.  When  we  consider  that  we 
were  under  fire  less  than  three-quarters  of  an  hour  before 
ordered  to  seek  shelter,  we  may  well  call  it  a  fierce  con 
flict,  for  more  than  every  third  man  was  cut  down.  This 
was  about  the  average  loss  in  the  whole  brigade.  Of  the 
eighteen  officers  engaged,  eleven  were  killed  or  wounded. 
If  that  is  a  test  of  their  valor,  brave  men  were  bravely 
led.  Considering  the  short  time  we  were  actually  under 
fire  without  shelter,  and  the  history  of  this  war  records 
no  more  fearful  slaughter  than  met  the  first  brigade  on 
the  27th  of  May.  The  old  name  of  the  field  was  Slaugh 
ter  s  field.  In  the  best  blood  of  New  England  its  name 
has  been  confirmed  in  baptism.  Of  the  forty-four,  who 
went  up  in  the  u  forlorn  hope,"  only  three  were  killed 
and  six  wounded ;  or  one  in  five.  Thus,  it  turned  out 
that  ours  was  the  path  of  safety.  It  happened  on  this 
wise  :  When  we  came  in  sight  of  the  rebels,  they  fired  at 
us  with  every  kind  of  weapon  in  their  possession.  Grape 
and  canister  were  mixed  with  solid  shot,  shell,  and  bul 
let  ;  but  when  they  saw  the  whole  brigade  following  us 
closely,  and  then  marching  to  the  right  of  us  in  line  of 
battle,  they  bestowed  their  deadliest  discharges  on  them, 
and  from  that  time,  we  were  mainly  greeted  with  bullets  ; 
especially  was  this  the  case  after  they  saw"  that  most  of 
the  fascine-bearers  were  disabled,  rendering  us  compara 
tively  ineffective.  With  the  regiment  proper  went  up 
189  men,  of  whom  71,  or  two  in  every  five  were  killed  or 
wounded. 

Sadly,  we  returned  from  the  unavailing  sacrifice.  The 
night  was  full  of  gloom.  Nervous  reaction  made  it  still 
more  gloomy.  It  seemed  hard  to  send  men  after  such  a 
11 


242  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

day's  labor  to  stand  on  picket  during  the  night,  but  neces 
sity  knows  neither  law  nor  mercy,  and  the  old  picket  had 
not  been  relieved  for  forty-eight  hours.  To  increase  our 
gloom,  the  battle-field  took  fire,  and  in  agony,  we  thought 
of  our  comrades,  struggling  with  pain  and  thirst,  on 
whom  the  billows  of  flame  were  rolling  down,  and  none 
to  help  them,  none  to  save  them  from  the  most  fearful  of 
deaths.  We  could  do  nothing  but  gaze  and  shudder. 
Humanity  led  some  of  the  rebels  to  face  the  bullets  of  our 
pickets  and  extinguish  the  flames  before  they  acquired 
full  sway.  All  night  long  the  surgeons  were  at  work. 
On  the  operating  table  were  the  victims,  whose  shrieks 
of  agony  but  partially  deadened  by  chloroform,  illy  pre 
pared  the  wounded  all  around  them,  for  their  hours  of 
martyrdom.  Lying  but  a  few  rods  from  the  hospit.ils, 
frames  unstrung  after  the  physical  and  mental  efforts  of 
the  day,  we  slept  but  little,  and  were  glad  when  the 
morning  came  that  we  could  see  to  aid  the  suffering  or 
get  away  from  their  harrowing  cries;  The  most  severely 
wounded  bore  the  surgical  operations  with  the  greatest 
calmness.  Perchance  their  exhausted  natures  soonest 
yielded  to  the  influences  of  stupefying  draughts.  Too 
much  praise  cannot  be  awarded  to  the  medical  authori 
ties.  Nearly  every  thing  wounded  men  could  want  wa  * 
at  hand.  Ministers  of  the  Christian  Commission  and 
others  did  all  that  loving  ingenuity  could  devise  for 
their  comfort ;  but  having  done  all.  how  much  was  left 
undone  that  home-care  would  have  performed !  Happy 
they,  who,  in  insensibility  or  fatigue,  could  forget  the 
surrounding  horrors.  The  conscious  could  but  imagine 
the  worst.  They  knew  not  whether  they  carried  in  them 
selves  the  sentence  of  disfigurement,  incapacity,  or  death. 
I  visited  them  in  the  morning,  found  most  of  them  cheer 
ful  and  doing  well ;  but  laid  one  side,  with  hands  tenderly 
folded  and  faces  respectfully  covered,  were  the  dead, 
showing  that  a  fearful  night  had  followed  a  bloody  day. 
The  surgeons  continued  at  their  work  without  a  moment's 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  243 

intermission.  Seeing  them  amputating  with  sleeves  rolled 
up,  splashed  with  blood,  here  a  pile  of  booted  legs,  there 
a  pile  of  arms,  was  more  trying  than  the  horrors  of  the 
battle-field.  As  fast  as  they  were  operated  on  they  were 
carefully  conveyed  to  Springfield  Landing,  and  thence  to 
Baton  Rouge,  where  ample  provisions  had  been  made  for 
their  comfort.  Ere  the  evening  of  the  28th,  nearly  all 
had  been  thus  removed.  On  the  road  to  the  landing,  at 
Lilley's  Station,  a  tent  had  been  put  up,  where  the 
wounded  received  iced-claret  punch  and  such  other  lux 
uries  as  they  needed  or  craved.  Never  was  any  military 
department  in  so  high  a  state  of  excellence  as  is  the 
"  Department  of  the  Gulf."  Wounds,  sickness  may  be 
before  us,  but  what  mitigations  our  circumstances  will 
allow  will  be  ours.  In  spite  of  all,  many  of  the  wounded 
will  die.  In  this  climate,  with  blood  already  diseased, 
hemorrhage  soon  follows  the  slightest  wound.  The  ex- 
tremest  care  has  to  be  taken  to  prevent  the  wounds  from 
becoming  maggoty..  We  hear  that  some  of  our  most 
severely  wounded  are  doing  well,  and  that  of  those  re 
ported  "  slightly  wounded,"  not  a  few  are  hovering  on 
the  brink  of  death.  God  prepare  loving  hearts  in  New 
England  for  soul-darkening  news.  Patriotic  fathers, 
mothers,  wives,  children  are  there,  who  will  try  to  bear 
their  sorrows  proudly,  but,  for  a  while^  nature  will  con 
quer  patriotism.  Sad  though  they  will  be  that  they  were 
not  present  to  receive  and  speak  the  last  adieu,  yet  it 
were  sadder  to  gaze  upon  fearful  sufferings  no  love  could 
alleviate.  Certainly,  not  then  /  ay,  not  till  other  affec 
tions  have,  in  some  measure,  led  them  from  their  great 
loss  ;  perchance,  never  will  they  be  able  to  say  with  the 
stern  Roman  : 

"  Thanks  to  the  gods !  my  boy  has  done  his  duty. 
Welcome  my  son  !     There,  set  him  down,  my  friends, 
Full  in  my  sight ;  that  I  may  view  at  leisure 
The  bloody  corpse  and  count  the  glorious  wounds. 
"Who  would  not  be  this  youth  ?     What  pity  'tis 
That  we  can  die  but  once  to  save  our  country." 


244  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-.XINTH 

Away  from  these  mangled  frames,  I  might  enter  into 
sympathy  with  such  sorrow  ;  here,  I  value  more  even  that 
<k  grief  that  does  not 'speak,  but  whispers  the  o'er  fraught 
heart  and  bids  it  break." 

After  we  returned  to  the  camp,  every  thing  was  done 
to  render  the  boys  comfortable.  The  Major  set  the  ex 
ample,  and  was  zealously  followed  by  the  officers.  Late 
as  it  was,  and  fully  engaged  as  were  all  of  the  medical  de 
partment  in  caring  for  the  wounded,  he  would  not  rest 
till  a  full  ration  of  whiskey  was  furnished.  In  our  inmost 
hearts  we  thanked  him.  Muscular  exertion  drawing  the 
blood  to  the  muscles,  mental  anxiety  drawing  it  to  the 
brain,  our  stomachs  loathed  food  and  even  commissary 
whiskey  was  a  luxury.  It  allayed  the  fierce,  burning  thirst. 
AVhat  rest  we  got  that  night  was  mainly  owing  to  the 
Major's  pertinacity  in  seen:  ing  for  us  our  ration  of  liquor. 

Almost  the  only  pleasure  in  returning  to  camp  was  the 
meeting  those  from  whom  the  surges  of  battle  had  sepa 
rated  us.  We  clasped  hands,  and  jeyes  were  wet.  Not 
unfrequently  did  we  embrace  as  women.  Officers  and 
privates  were  brothers  then.  They  had  been  baptized 
into  one  family.  Never  will  those  with  whom  I  went  in 
that  "forlorn  hope,"  bow  forlorn  !  be  as  common  friends 
again.  There,  we  entered  the  sacred  brotherhood  of 
soldiers. 

On  the  morning  of  the  28th,  we  brought  in  our  dead. 
The  'burial  party  saw  many  guns,  blankets,  etc.,  lying 
round,  but  under  a  flag  of  truce  neither  side  can  carry  any 
tiling  away,  and  so  they  brought  nothing  but  our  slain. 
The  pockets  of  some  of  these  had  been  rifled  by  (we  have 
reason  to  fear)  members  of  the  2d  Louisiana.  One  or 
more  from  each  company  comprised  that  party,  so  as  to 
be  able  to  identify  all.  Mutilated,  as  many  of  them 
were,  identification  was  difficult.  They  brought  them  to 
the  eastern  verge  of  the  wood,  where  we  rested  just 
before  we  charged.  As  beet  they  could,  without  coffins, 
t!icv  buried  them.  A  fc\v  year*  and  the  mounds  will 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  245 

disappear,  and  nothing  will  remain  to  show  where  oui 
Berkshire  brave  rest.  They  died  well  and  their  works 
do  follow  them.  Liberty  needed  a  fresh  baptism.  Their 
hearts,  not  unwillingly,  yielded  the  sacred  element.  So 
long  as  Liberty  lives,  their  memories  will  be  cherished. 
Names  will  be  forgotten,  but  from  the  graves  of  these 
"  unnamed  demi  gods"  shall  go  forth  a  living  spirit  that 
will  raise  up  an  unbroken  succession  of  those  who  count 
duty  to  country  a  part  of  duty  to  God.  To  these  graves 
every  patriotic  heart  is  united,  and  proudly  may  they 
slumber  over  whom  God  and  humanity  say  "  Well  done  !" 
The  burial  party  report  that  the  rebels  have  put  up  new 
guns  with  which  to  open  other  graves  if  Slaughter's  field 
shall  again  be  made  the  scene  of  conflict.  As  nearly  as 
they  could  judge,  the  ditch  is  fifteen  feet  deep  and  eleven 
feet  wide,  and  the  parapet  eight  feet  in  height. 

Gloomily  we  passed  the  day  after  the  battle,  doing 
nothing  but  writing  home  and  resting.  Towards  even 
ing,  the  body  of  Lieutenant  Deming  was  brought  in,  and 
we  were  preparing  to  have  a  prayer-meeting  when  the 
order  came,  "Fall  in!  Forty-ninth!"  We  could  hear 
firing  to  our  right,  and  knew  not  but  that  our  courage 
was  again  to  be  tried.  Unstrung  nerves  and  timid 
hearts  protested,  but  a  few  steps  of  marching  and 
that  feeling'  passed  away;  yet  we  were  glad  to  find^that 
nothing  more  serious  was  before  us  than  to  guard  the 
lane,  to  cut  them  off  if  they  should  try  to  escape:  We 
were  revengeful  enough  to  hope  they  would  try  it.  We 
had  been  in  a  slaughter-pen  where  the  advantage  was  all 
on  their  side ;  now,  we  desired  them  to  come  on,  where 
positions  would  be  reversed.  Of  course  they  came  not, 
and  we  have  but  little  reason  to  expect  that  they  will 
come.  Our  repulse  has,  doubtless,  encouraged  them  to 
believe  they  can  hold  their  ground,  but  unless  we  are 
attacked  by  a  strong  force  from  the  rear,  Port  Hudson 
will  ere  long,  be  ours. 

I  approach  the  obituaries  of  our  slain  with  diffidence. 


246  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

My  materials  arc  so  limited  that  I  ean  but  do  injustice 
to  some,  with  whom  I  was  least  acquainted.  Of  many, 
all  we  know  is,  they  went  through  life,  quietly  perform 
ing  its  duties,  until,  in  discharge  thereof,  they  died  at  the 
bidding  of  their  country. 

Lieutenant  Barton  D.  Deming  was  in  his  thirty- 
second  year  when  he  nobly  died.  Before  the  war,  he 
lived  the  life  of  the  quiet  farmer,  respected  by  all.  "  Re 
spected  by  all,"  is  emphatically  true  of  our  late  comrade. 
Comfortable  in  circumstances,  happy  in  his  domestic 
relations,  retiring  in  his  disposition,  nothing  but  the 
voice  of  duty  called  him  to  a  soldier's  life.  He  be 
came  a  soldier  because  he  was  a  Christian.  Making  his 
will,  and  prudently  regulating  his  afl'airs,  on  the  suppo 
sition  that  he  would  not  return,  he  was  prepared  to  do 
all  that  was  required  at  his  hands.  Singularly  quiet, 
only  those  most  intimate  with  him  knew  his  worth. 
In  the  command  of  his  men  he  was  kind,  ever  laboring 
to  smooth  their  pathway.  I  roomed  with  him  on  the 
steamship  Illinois,  and  found  him  gentle  and  obliging, 
grateful  for  every  attention,  and  claiming  little  as  his 
ri'fht.  None  ever  said,  "shoulder-straps"  lifted  him 
above  himself.  Few  wrore  the  marks  of  rank,  think 
ing  less  of  them.  Though  deficient  in  self-esteem,  he 
kneiv  full  well  that  the  m<ut  was  greater  than  the  officer, 
and  his  military  worth  consisted  in  throwing  around  the 
latter  the  dignity  of  the  former.  The  boys  on  picket 
wanted  no  more  considerate  commander  than  Lieutenant 
Deming.  Sickness  gave  a  sombreness  to  his  countenance 
that  was  not  in  his  heart.  He  was  unwell  when  he  came 
'up  to  this  place,  but  sense  of  duty  was  stronger  than 
illness.  When  we  were  lying  down  on  the  edge  of  the 
woods,  I  looked  at  him  and  thought  Lieutenant  Dem- 
ing  had  a  presentiment  of  death,  his  face  was  so  xsad. 
He,  himself,  seemed  to  think  the  day  would  be  a  f.ital 
one  to  him,  and  requested  Lieutenant  Smith  (II)  to  take 
charge  of  his  money,  but  as  Lieutenant  Smith  was  to 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEER*.  247 

meet  the  same  danger,  he  refused.  He  was  last  seen 
alive  at  the  head  of  his  men,  gallantly  urging  them  on. 
His  death  could  not  have  been  a  painful  one.  A  ball 
pierced  his  head,  speedily  ushering  him  from  the  battle 
of  life  to  the  peace  of  Heaven.  In  response  to  his 
friends  in  Sandisfield  on  receiving  from  them  a  sword,  he 
wrote,  "  Hoping  you  will  hear  a  good  report  from  me  if 
ever  on  the  iield  of  battle,  I  bid  you  all  God  speed." 
The  report  will  go  back  to  his  native  town,  and  better 
none  need  desire.  Their  gift  was  stained  with  his  own 
blood.  His  pockets  were  rilled,  and  their  contents,  in 
cluding  his  watch,  gone.  He  kept  his  money  in  a  pocket 
in  the  inside  of  his  shirt.  That  Lieutenant  Smith  secured. 
We  brought  him  to  camp  and  buried  him  in  the  field 
opposite.  Away  from  loved  ones,  he  was  not  without 
sincere  mourners.  Honored  in  life  and  in  death,  his 
friends  may  well  mourn  for  him  proudly.  We  feel  that 
death  has  been  to  him  great  gaiil. 

Luther  M.  Davis  (A),  was  a  farmer,  from  Pittsfield, 
aged  twenty-one  years.  When  found,  his  body  showed 
marks  of  having  been  burned,  but  the  fire  added  nothing 
to  his  suffering.  His  death,  caused  by  a  shell  taking  off 
the  top  of  his  head,  must  have  been  instantaneous.  An 
excellent  soldier,  one  of  the  very  best  of  his  company ;  a 
steady,  frugal,  good  man ;  a  youthful  husband,  he  there 
sank  to  his  honored  rest. 

John  M.  Gamwell,  corporal  (B),  was  a  carpenter  and 
school-teacher,  from  West  Stockbridge.  He  was  a  very 
fine,  well-educated  man,  respected  in  his  company.  He 
was  wounded  in  the  leg  and  arm  and  bled  to  death,  at 
the  age  of  thirty-seven  years,  leaving  a  family  to  mourn 
him  and  to  remember  May  27th,  1863,  as  the  burial-day 
of  many  a  fond  hope. 

Garrett  Fitzgerald  (B),  aged  twenty-one  years,  from 
Lanesboro,  was  a  brave  Irishman  and  an  excellent  soldier. 
He  was  one  of  the  original  volunteers  for  the  "  forlorn 
hope,"  but,  owing  to  circumstances  I  have  detailed  above, 


248  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

lie  did  not  go  therein.  He  leaves  a  wife  to  hope  in  rain 
for  his  return. 

Henry  D.  Wentworth  (B),  a  fanner-boy,  from  Windsor, 
agc-1  twenty  years,  was  so  fearfully  wounded  in  the 
abdomen  that  all  that  could  be  done  was  to  <nve  him 

o 

opiates  to  ease  his  sufferings,  till  death  should  usher  him 
to  his  heavenly  home,  lie  bore  the  reputation  of  a 
Christian  soldier,  and  died  May  29th,  as  he  was  being 
conveyed'  to  Springfield  Landing  where  he  now  lies 
buried.  Of  course  he  was  a  good  soldier.  "  He  was  a 
Christian  hoy,"  said  one  of  his  comrades.  He  fell  in  a 
cause  worthy  of  a  Christian's  death.  Having  kept  him 
self  unsullied  from  the  vices  of  the  camp,  and  dying  as 
he  did,  who  may  say  "he  died  an  //,^///x7//  death?" 
Such  a  dead  son  is  worth  more  than  many  living  sons. 

AllwH  Grisicold)  corporal  (C),  was  a  quiet,  excellent 
soldier.  He  was  a  farmer,  from  Dalton,  aged  twenty- 
seven  years,  and  leaves  a  wife  and  child. 

Mil-ens  /lr"cL'cn  (D),  was  an  Alford  farmer,  aged  thirty- 
one  years.  He  leaves  behind  him  a  family.  Another 
brave  Irish  soldier  poured  out  his  life's  blood  in  Free 
dom's  cause. 

Thomas  ITo'i&'-y  (D),  shoemaker,  from  Barrington,  was 
yet  another  of  the  sons  of  Ireland  who,  on  that  sad  day, 
gave  up  his  life  that  this  country  might  remain  the  hope 
of  the  world.  He  was  a  remarkably  good  soldier,  and 
in  his  twenty-second  year  nobly  fell  in  the  vain  attempt 
to  bridge  a  way  over  which  we  might  reach  the  heart 
of  slavery. 

J//7/X  &  Jlv/nM$  (D),  was  a  good  soldier,  from  Bar 
rington.  He  was  one  of  the  original  volunteers,  and  fell 
in  his  nineteenth  year. 

Horatio  S,  II  //:///*  (E),  aged  twenty-three,  was  a  fine, 
quiet,  honest  farmer,  from  Sheffield.  A  good  member  of 
a  good  company.  His  name  belongs  to  the  "  roll  of 
honor,"  though  he  did  not  go  in  the  "  forlorn  hope,"  for 
which  he  volunteered. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  249 

Eugene  Ingersoll  (II),  of  Lee,  aged  nineteen  years, 
represented  in  himself  his  own  and  a  father's  willing 
offering  to  a  needy,  bleeding  country.  He  was  a  bright, 
smart,  well-educated  boy  and  a  fine  soldier.  Though 
sick,  he  joined  his  company,  when  we  were  ordered  to 
march  on  the  foe,  but  soon  fell  out  of  the  ranks,  and  we 
carried  him  in  one  of  our  carts.  Alone  of  Co.  H., 
he  volunteered  in  the  "forlorn  hope,"  and  doing  its  peril 
ous  duties,  he  met  a  soldier's  fate.  Pride  will  mingle 
with  the  grief  in  that  Berkshire  home  when  loving 
parents  hear  that  Eugene  was  faithful  unto  death." 

Albert  Allen  (H),  was  another  of  those  farmer  boys 
Sandisfield  sent  to  the  war,  and  of  whom,  in  life  and  in 
death,  she  may  well  be  proud.  Death  has  been  busy 
with  her  soldiers,  yet  has  made  her  rich  in  patriotic 
memories.  Her  dead,  lying  in  honored  graves  on  the 
shores  of  the  Mississippi,  are  the  most  precious  part  of 
her  wealth.  Young  Allen,  only  twenty-two  years  of 
age,  was  one  of  the  noblest  of  her  boys.  Steady,  moral, 
a  first-rate  soldier,  he  did  honor  to  a  mother  to  whom 
country  was  more  than  children,  of  whom  she  gave 
several  to  the  army.  One,  an  officer,  was  killed  at 
Vicksburg,  and  now  Albert  lies  at  Port  Hudson.  She 
can  appreciate  how  much  the  freedom  of  the  "  Father 
of  Rivers"  costs.  We  left  Kim  sick  at  Baton  Rouge, 
but  his  eager  soul  yearned  for  the  field  of  duty,  and  so 
escaping  from  camp,  he  joined  our  ranks,  and  now 
proudly  sleeps  among  the  k4  fallen  brave." 

Theron  C.  Shaw  (K),  was  one  of  those  fine,  pleasant, 
farmer  boys  of  whom  Sheffield  gave  so  many  to  the 
ranks  of  the  Forty-ninth  and  to  the  graves  of  Louisiana. 
He  was  but  eighteen  years  old  when  he  was  much  torn 
by  an  exploding  shell  and  died. 

Luther  Funk  (K),  of  Mount  Washington,  was  a  nice, 

clever  boy  of  eighteen.     He  was  shot  through  the  bowels 

on  the  27th,  and  died  the  next  day.     Pie  fought  and  fell 

by  his  father's  side  ;  fell  so  nobly  that  the  soldier  heart 

11* 


250  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY  NINTH 

of  the  father  must  have  tJic-n  been  prouder  of  his  dying 
boy  than  over  before.  Parental  love  could  not  save  him, 
but  by  his  u-ave  has  placed  a  good  head-board  to  note 
the  place  of  his  burial.  This  done  and  the  lonely  father 
turns  again  to  meet  the  foe. 

Solomon  Dowel  (K),  fanner,  of  Monterey,  aged  thirty- 
six  years,  was  fearfully  mutilated.  His  leg  and  hip 
were  smashed  by  a  discharge  of  grape  and  railroad. 
His  left  hand  was  cut  off.  Returning,  he  said  to  his 
captain,  "I  couldn't  bring  back  my  gun,  but  it  is  so 
battered  that  it  will  be  worth  nothing  to  the  rebels." 
IK-  was  an  odd  being,  but  died,  on  the  28th,  a  hero's 
death. 

Stera  W.  Carlej  (K),  farmer,  from  Monterey,  aired 
thirty-eight  years,  was  a  Christian  warrior.  lie  was 
one  of  the  "  forlorn  hope."  Quiet  and  firm,  he  made  a 
model  soldier.  He  was  wounded  iu  the  wrist  and 
bound  up  that  wound,  when  another  bullet  entered  his 
heart  and  closed  his  noble  career.  He  leaves  a  family 
and  a  name  of  which  that  family  may  well  be  proud. 

Henry  E.  Warner,  sergeant  (K),  aged  twenty-four, 
farmer,  from  New  Marlboro,  was  shot  in  the  thigh  be 
fore  he  had  far  advanced  in  the  field.  He  wanted  his 
captain  to  stop  and  bind  up  his  wound,  but  that  was  im 
possible  ;  and  Weston,  speaking  a  few  kind,  la.tt  words  to 
him,  led  on  his  company  to  wheiv  was  appointed  for 
tin.  in  a  fearful  reaping.  He  bled  to  death,  and  there  was 
none  to  help  him.  Hound  him  were  the  dying  and  the 
dead.  Up  amid  the  hills  of  Berkshire  were  parents, 
wife,  child,  who  but  little  thought  on  so  bright 
dark  a  cloud  was  gathering  over  their  future.  They 
knew  not  that  Henry,  dying,  was  yearning  for  them  ; 
and  that,  on  Slaughter's  lield,  his  soul  was  going  out  to 
God.  He  was  a  worthy  man,  with  an  education  and 
character  that  would  have  secured  him  an  honorable 
position  in  life,  but  not  a  position  more  truly  honorable 
than  the  one  hallowed  with  his  dying  blood.  He  fell, 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEEKS.  251 

and  a  nation's  brightness  and  glory  is  his  mantle  ;  Free 
dom's  renovation  his  epitaph. 

i 

11  Immortal  names  I     0  nolle  ones!     A  nation's  heart  will  throb  . 
For  ye,  who  fell  in  manly  prime,  for  freedom  and  for  God, 
And  woman's  eyes  grow  dim  with  tears,  and  manhood  bows  its  head 
Before  thy  deeds  of  yalor  done — New  England's  honored  dead." 

The  Colonel  has  gone  to  Baton  Rouge,  and  we  hear 
that  fears  are  entertained  that  he  will  lose  his  arm.  To 
lose  leg  and  arm,  and  to  go  thus  maimed  through  life, 
would  be  a  heavy  lot.  The  wound  in  his  heel  is  very 
slight  and  will  trouble  him  but  a  little  while.  I  suppose 
he  is  lost  to  us  for  the  remainder  of  this  campaign,  and 
it  is  a  loss  we  deeply  feel.  The  Major  interests  himself 
personally  in  our  well-being  and  measures  yet  higher  in 
our  esteem,  but  we  feel  that  ours  is  an  irreparable  loss. 
For  months  we  have  tested  our  commander,  and  always 
found  him  up  to  our  expectations.  I  am  too  little  ac 
quainted  with  him  to  know  whether  he  has  the  qualities 
of  a  great  general.  Admiring  him  as  much  as  I  do,  I 
should  doubt  the  propriety  of  substituting  him  for 
Banks,  but  would  have  no  hesitation  in  voting  him  in  as 
a  brigadier.  Colonel  Paine  (though  outranked  by  Colonel 
Johnson,  21st  Maine),  2d  Louisiana,  is  now  in  command 
of  our  brigade.  I  suppose  he  was  appointed  because  his 
is  a  throe  years'  regiment,  though  when  the  nine  months' 
men  go  home  he  will  have  only  his  own  and  the  116th 
New  York  regiment  for  a  brigade.  Had  Bartlett  not 
been  wounded  I  think  he  would  now  be  in  his  place. 
Confidence  in  him  is  not  confined  to  us,  but  I  have  heard 
privates  and  officers  of  other  regiments  express  regret 
that  he  could  not  be  Chapin's  successor.  In  that  po 
sition  he  would  be  saved  much  exposure  and  many 
dangers,  and  would  imbue  his  whole  command  with  a 
confidence  that  would  render  them  twice  as  effective  as 
under  Paine.  We  praise  Bartlett  because  he  emphati? 
cally  treated  a  private  as  well  as  an  officer,  in  some  cases 


252  LIFE   WITH   THE    FORTf-XlXTH 

hotter,  for  I  have  known  him  to  censure  officers  for 
••al  mistakes  in  no  very  polite  words,  and  that,  too, 
in  presence  of  their  own  men.  He  erred  there,  for  such 
censuring  was  calculated  to  destroy  the  respect  of  the 
soldiers  for  those  officers  and  to  awaken  insubordination. 
I  look  upon  it  as  a  grave  error.  Mistakes  in  tactics  were 
the  unpardonable  sins  in  his  sight,  and  drew  from  him,  on 
one  occasion,  language  more  forcible  than  pleasant.  It 
was  the  only  time  that  I  knew  him  to  use  words  that 
were  not  peculiarly  appropriate  to  the  conventicle.  I 
have  had  a  good  deal  of  business  intercourse  with  him, 
and  always  found  him  reserved  but  respectful,  and  this  is 
the  testimony  of  all  privates  who  have  been  thrown  into 
his  presence.  I  have  never  heard  any  of  them  say  that  the 
Colonel  treated  them  otherwise  than  as  gentlemen.  In 
the  transaction  of  public  business  I  found  him  scrupulous 
ly  exact  and  honest.  One  of  his  greatest  virtues  as  a 
military  man  is  his  coolness.  For  that  he  is  remarkable. 
lie  has  not  popular  manners,  cannot  unbend  and  be 
sociable,  yet  maintain  his  dignity,  to  his  inferiors,  and  is 
bashful  (when  we  cheered  him  as  he  left  his  carriage  and 
mounted  his  horse  as  the  battle  of  Plain's  Store  com 
menced,  he  blushed,  as  if  ashamed  of  his  popularity)',  but 
he  is  a  strong,  faithful  man,  in  whom  a  regiment  may 
confide,  and  in  whom  they  may  fully  rely.  •  Take  him  all 
and  in  all,  the  colonel  of  the  Forty-ninth  is  a  marked 
man.  We  have  been  proud  of  him,  arid  in  bidding  him 
a  virtual  farewell  as  our  commander,  nearly  every  heart 
adds  the  fervent  "  God  bless  him  !" 

We  have  also  lost  our  Adjutant,  and  that  too  just  as 
we  were  beginning  to  appreciate  and  admire  him.  lie 
goes  on  General  Dwight's  stall*.  Colonel  and  Adjutant 
gone,  eighty  killed  and  wounded,  we  feel  almost  as  if  the 
Forty-ninth  was  disbanded,  forgetting  that  scattered 
around  is  quite  a  formidable  number  yet  remaining. 
Lieutenant  Francis  is  now  acting  adjutant,  and  a  better 
one  we  could  not  well  have.  We  kaew  he  was  kind,  polite, 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  253 

a  good  business  man,  and  he  has  proved  himself  a  brave 
soldier.  Fred  makes  a  good  officer.  He  has  those  qual 
ities  that  the  surgings  of  battle  bring  out  in  bold  relief. 
He  ought  to  make  arms  his  profession. 

It  is  said  that  our  brigade  is  not  to  be  put  into  the 
front  again,  save  as  a  matter  of  extreme  necessity.  That 
is  right,  for  we  are  dispirited,  having  lost  confidence  in 
our  generals.  Who  originated  the  assault  of  the  27th, 
we  know  not.  Some  say  that  all  the  generals  were  op 
posed  to  it,  but  Banks  insisted ;  and  others  have  it,  that 
it  was  Chapin's  project.  It  might  have  been  a  success, 
had  the  attack  been  made  simultaneously  on  the  right, 
centre,  and  left ;  but,  as  it  was,  Weitzel  on  the  right, 
where  the  enemy  had  some  works  outside  their  parapet, 
commenced  at  6  A.  M.,  and  was  engaged  till  4  p.  M.;  ice  as 
saulted  at  1|  P.  M.,  while  Sherman  did  not  start  till  3  p.  M. 
At  2  p.  M.,  he  received  peremptory  orders  to  charge. 
Then  he  had  to  mass  his  men  and  form  his  storming  par 
ty.  Being  attacked  at  different  times,  the  enemy  could 
mass  his  forces  against  each  division,  and  so  cut  us  off  in 
detail.  After  we  had  been  on  the  field  over  an  hour,  we 
could  see  them  double-quicking  to  the  left  to  repel  Sher 
man  ;  who,  from  all  I  can  hear,  was  drunk.  When  he 
did  attack,  he  recklessly  exposed  himself,  and  was  wound 
ed  in  his  leg,  'which  has  since  been  amputated.  The  fas 
cines  were  too  heavy  and  few.  Had  a  thousand  skir 
mishers  crept  up  as  they  might  have  done  in  compara 
tive  safety,  they  could  have  kept  the  walls  clear,  and 
silenced  most  of  the  guns,  so  the  bridges  could  have  been 
laid,  and  the  stormers  entered  upon  their  bayonet  work 
unexhausted.  It  was  a  premature  assault. 

Few  scenes  are  as  full  of  moral  sublimity  as  that  of  a 
brigade  walking  right  up  into  a  valley  of  fire.  See  one 
man,  in  a  righteous  cause,  facing  death,  and  all*within 
us  is  called  out  in  admiration.  How  much  grander  the 
sight,  when  a  long  line  of  a  thousand  meets  a  wave  of 
fire  that  they  must  dash  back,  or  allow  it  to  submerge  a 


254  LIFE    WITH    THE    FOJHY-MNTH 

nation's  fondest  hopes  !  To  sec  them  enter,  where  earth 
is  crowded  with  deadly  ]!>i:-siles,  and  death  is  hurtling 
through  all  the  air,  is  a  spectacle  never  to  be  forgotten, 
the  remembrance  of  which  confirms  us  in  our  high  esti 
mate  of  man's  inherent  devotion  to  his  convictions  of 
duty.  Humanity  needs  such  spectacles  to  keep 'alive  our 
hopes  for  the  race,  which  in  time  of  peace,  seems  to  be 
digging  its  own  grave,  amid  the  rubbish  of  earth. 

Under  the  \valls  of  Port  Hudson,  the  mooted  question 
was  forever  settled,  and  friend  and  foe  admit  that  "  the 
negro  will  light.''  The  First  and  Third  Louisiana  Native 
Guards  assaulted  on  the  right.  The  former  regiment 
was  composed  mainly  of  free  negroes  of  French  extrac 
tion.  Many  of  them  were  men  of  liberal  education  and 
wealth.  They  were  commanded  by  negro  officers.  The 
latter  regiment  consisted  of  slaves  or  contrabands,  the 
field  officers  of  which  were  white,  and  the  line  officers 
black.  Thus,  free  and  bond,  but  negroes  all,  1,080  strong, 
gathered  together  to  prove  to  the  world,  that  valor  and 
manhood  are  not  the  exclusive  attributes  of  the  white 
raee.  They  did  prove  it,  and  for  all  time.  Men,  who 
had  often  cowered  beneath  the  master's  lash,  met  those 
masters  in  the  death  struggle,  and  maniiested  their  God- 
given  equality.  All  agree  that  none  fought  more  nobly 
than  the  "native  guards."  They  drove  the  rebels  from 
their  outer  works,  and  against  them,  behind  their  formid 
able  intrenchments,  made  ,sv>  distinct  charges.  Six  times 
they  repeated  our  charge.  True,  they  had  to  advance 
but  two  hundred  yards  under  fire,  while  twelve  hundred 
yards  lay  between  us  and  the  foe,  but  six  times  did  they 
go  over  the  ground,  heaping  it  with  their  slain,  and 
pressed  into  the  ditch,  over  which  a  few  gallantly  passed, 
and  mounted  the  ramparts  of  the  foe.  Short  of  ammuni 
tion,  their  negro  brethren  of  the  engineer  regiment,  car 
ried  them  cartridge-,  deliant  of  the  iron  hail  that  poured 
down  on  them.  Three  times  beaten  back,  their  com 
mander,  Colonel  Nelson,  sent  to  General  D  wight  for 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  255 

orders.  That  earnest  son  of  Massachusetts  replied  : 
"  Tell  Colonel  Nelson  I  shall  consider  he  has  done  nothing 
unless  he  carries  the  enemy's  works."  Perchance, 
D wight  felt,  infallibly  proving  the  valor  of  the  African 
was  worth  hundreds  of  their  lives.  He  was  right,  and 
they  felt  it  too.  Hoping  against  hope,  realizing  that 
they  were  to  lift  up  their  race  from  the  degradation  of 
centuries,  three  times  more  did  the  remnant  go  into  that 
valley  of  flame.  Human  bravery  was  ineffectual  to  ac 
complish  impossibilities,  and  the  survivors,  heroes  all, 
sadly,  but  triumphantly  returned.  Nearer  than  any 
others  did  the  "  black  brigade"  go,  and  many  a  proud 
master  found,  in  death,  that  freedom  had  made  his  slave 
his  superior.  We  had  expected  that  they  would  be  equal 
to  a  grand  rush, but  did  not  expect  that  they  would  show 
valor,  where  valor  meant  the  extremest  exercise  of  the 
human  will.  The  27th  of  May  was  not  a  los't  day.  A 
race  of  serfs  stepped  up  to  the  respect  of  the  world,  and 
commenced  a  national  existence.  The  bond  everywhere 
will  remember  that  charge,  and  woe  to  them  who  shall 
try  to  re-enslave  a  race,  which  has  now  such  a  wealth  of 
historic  recollections. 

"  Dark  as  the  clouds  of  even, 
Ranked  in  the  western  heaven, 
Waiting  the  breath  that  lifts 
All  the  dread  mass,  and  drifts 
Tempest  and  falling  brand 
Over  a  ruined  land ; 
So  still  and  orderly, 
Arm  to  arm,  knee  to  knee, 
Waiting  the  great  event, 
Stands  the  black  regiment. 

"  Down  the  long  dusky  line, 
Teeth  gleam  and  eyeballs  shine  ; 
And  the  bright  bayonet, 
Bristling  and  firmly  set, 
Flashed  with  a  purpose  grand, 
Long  ere  the  sharp  command 


256  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

Of  the  fierce  rolling  drum 
Told  them  their  time  had  come, 
Told  them  what  work  was  sent 
For  the  black  regiment. 

"  '  Now,'  the  flag-sergeant  cried 
'  Though  death  and  hell  betide, 
Let  the  whole  nation  see 
If  we  are  tit  to  be 
Free  in  this  laud ;  or  bound 
Down,  like  the  whining  hound — 
Bound  with  red  stripe's  pain 
In  our  old  chains  again  1' 
Oh  1  what  a  shout  there  went 
From  the  black  regiment  I 

"  '  Charge  !'     Trump  and  drum  awoke 
Onward  tho  bondmen  broke; 
Bayonet  and  sabre-stroke 
Vainly  opposed  their  rush. 
Through  the  wild  battle's  crush, 
With  but  one  thought  aflush, 
Driving  their  lords  like  chaff, 
In  the  gun's  mouths  they  laugh ; 
Or  at  the  slippery  brands 
Leaping  with  open  hari'la, 
Down  they  tear  man  and  horse, 
Down  in  their  awful  course ; 
Trampling  with  bloody  heel 
Over  the  crashing  steel, 
All  their  eyes  forward  bent 
Rushed  the  black  regiment. 

"  'Freedom!'  their  battle-cry — 
1  Freedom  !  or  leave  to  die  !' 
Ahl  and  they  infant  the  word: 
Not  as  with  us  ;tis  heard, 
Not  a  mere  party  shout : 
They  gave  their  spirits  out ; 
Trusted  the  end  to  God, 
And  on  the  gory  sod 
Rolled  in  triumphant  blood. 
Glad  to  strike  one  free  blow, 
Whether  for  weal  or  woe ; 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  257 

Glad  to  breathe  one  free  breath, 
Though  on  the  lips  of  death. 
Praying — alas,  in  vain  ! — 
That  they  might  fall  again, 
So  they  could  once  more  see 
That  burst  to  liberty  ! 
This  was  what  '  freedom'  lent 
To  the  black  regiment. 

"Hundreds  on  hundreds  fell; 
But  they  are  resting  well ; 
Scourges  and  shackles  strong 
Never  shall  do  them  wrong. 
Oh  1  to  the  living  few, 
Soldiers,  be  just  and  true  ! 
Hail  them  as  comrades  tried; 
Fight  with  them  side -by  side  ; 
Never,  in  field  or  tent, 
Scorn  the  black  regiment  1" 

I  credit  the  assertions  that  the  rebels  barbarously  re 
fused  the  negroes  burial,  until  the  stench  of  their  corpses 
made  it  a  matter  of  self-preservation,  and  that  they  inhu 
manly  murdered  their  wounded  and  prisoners,  piled  them 
up  on  the  parapet,  and  nailed  them  alive  to  the  trees,  where 
their  comrades  could  witness  their  dying  struggles.  I 
credit  it,  because  they  have  often  declared  they  would 
show  them  no  mercy  if  they  fell  into  their  hands,  and  be 
cause  I  know  that  nothing  would  so  enrage  them  as  to  be 
compelled  to  measure  arms  with  a  despised  race,  who 
had  always  rendered  them  the  most  servile  obedience. 

It  is  now  time  for  roll  call,  and  I  close  this  long  letter. 
Roll  calls  are  becoming  solemn  things.  On  the  morning 
of  the  28th,  eighty  were  not  there  to  answer.  When  the 
names  of  the  dead  were  called,  the  only  answer  was  a 
solemn  silence,  and  we  thanked  God  for  our  own  preserva 
tion,  and  sadly  thought  of  the  bereaved,  who  shall  call  on 
loved  ones  only  to  hear  from  their  lonely  graves,  "  dead ! 
dead!  dead!" 


258  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 


LETTER    XXIX. 

BEFORE  PORT  HUDSO.V,  LA.,  June  10,  1863. 
My  DEAR  L. : 

We  are  yet  encamped  in  the  woods,  from  which  I 
dated  my  last  letter,  and  are  much  improved  in  spirits. 
The  depression,  caused  by  what  seemed  to  us  a  useless 
sai-ritice  of  life,  is  wearing  off,  but  we  are  not  as  buoyant 
and  reliable  as  we  were  before  the  late  battle.  Then,  we 
went,  fully  confiding  in  our  generals,  wherever  ordered, 
and  went  cheerfully.  Now,  we  would  obey,  if  com 
manded  to  repeat  that  charge,  but  with  so  much  of  re 
luctance  as  to  destroy  half  our  efficiency.  Confidence, 
once  lost,  is  regained  slowly.  Now,  if  Banks  would  but 
come  and  utter  some  earnest,  patriotic  remarks,  sympa 
thizing  with  our  losses  and  our  valor,  it  would  bind  us  to 
him  and  anew  to  the  sacred  cause. 

Massachusetts  troops  are  enigmas  to  those  who  know 
them  not.  They  are  cold-blooded,  and  to  hear  them  talk 
before  fighting,  you  might  «-steem  them  cowards.  Some 
men  know  what  "battle-joy"  means.  They  are  generally 
earnest,  deep-souled,  nervous  men,  who  are  never  quiet 
gave  when  working.  Their  central  natures  are  so  strong 
that  they  do  not  find  happiness  in  the  trifles  of  life,  but 
give  them  genuine  excitement  and  they  show  what  man 
ner  of  men  they  are.  The  prospect  of  a  battle,  in  a  cause 
sacred  enough  to  enlist  all  their  sympathies,  is  joyous  to 
them.  Taking  no  pleasure  in  slaughter,  morbidly  shrink 
ing  from  blood,  they  yet  hail  that  hour  with  gladness, 
feeling  that  there  is  a  time  vouchsafed  when  they  can 
practise  the  heroism  their  souls  have  garnered.  I  can 
dimly  see  that  there  is  such  a  class  in  the  world,  but  they 
are  not  from  Massachusetts,  yet,  save  in  the  matter  of 


MASSACHUSETTS  VOLUNTEERS.  259 

dash,  this  nation  has  no  better  troops.  Talking  as  if  they 
would  like  to  go  home,  and  shun  the  coming  danger,  yet, 
at  the  word  of  command,  they  step  to  death  as  coolly  as 
to  dinner.  Where  the  dash  fails,  and  nothing  but  will^ 
hardened  by  contact  with  moral  education  and  principle, 
can  uphold,  they  are  pre-eminent.  I  saw  our  fanner-boys, 
seemingly  as  cold  as  Greylock,  and  about  as  enthusiastic, 
meet  the  wave  of  fire  as  if  they  had  been  trained  from 
boyhood  amid  the  veterans  of  Napoleon.  When  bullies 
succumbed,  those  quiet  ones,  who  would  so  suddenly 
have  disappeared  from  a  bar-room  fight,  as  to  be  taunted 
with  cowardice,  pressed  firmly  on,  or  calmly  met  the 
death,  duty  and  pride  would  not  allow  them  to  shun. 
There  is  no  man  so  fully  imbued  with  personal  pride  as  a 
son  of  Massachusetts.  At  home,  he  will  quarrel  with 
that  distribution  of  wealth  that  puts  another  in  a  place 
of  imaginary  superiority  to  him,  and  with  a  good  deal  of 
desire  to  drag  others  down  to  his  level,  will  persistently 
labor  to  place  himself  at  the  head  of  the  list.  This  dem 
ocratic  equality,  sometimes  run  mad,  this  constant  assert 
ing,  in  the  face  of  fancied  superiors,  "  A  man's  a  man  for 
a'  that,"  is  not  always  attractive,  but  ally  it,  in  a  greater 
or  lesser  degree,  with  convictions  of  duty,  and  you  have 
a  soldier,  who,  in  the  bloodiest  field,  will  prove  his  divine 
equality.  The  27th  of  May  gave  me,  v^ho  am  not  "  to 
the  manor  born,"  a  better  insight  into  the  pluck  of  Mas 
sachusetts  braves  than  I  ever  had  before.  I  know  none 
who  will  meet  impossibilities  with  more  of  hope  and  will. 
Though  they  have  not  the  showy  courage  of  some,  yet 
they  deserve  t\\e  foremost  rank. 

We  hear  little  now  about  time  being  nearly  out.  Most 
are  indifferent  abou,t  a  few  weeks,  more  or  less  ;  the  great 
question  is,  Will  we  be  spared  to  go  home  at  all  ?  There 
are  rumors  of  an  attack  on  the  right  to-morrow,  and  some 
brigades  are  preparing  their  fascines,  and  we  may  possibly 
have  a  part  therein.  ]STot  a  few  think  it  hard  to  be  thus 
pushed  into  danger,  so  near  the  expiration  of  their  service. 


260  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

Were  they  yet  bound  for  over  two  years,  they  would 
have  no  such  thoughts.  Now,  crops  out  the  evils  of  en 
listing  men  for  so  short  a  period  as  nine  months  ;  yet,  I 
suppose,  men  who  had  enlisted  for  ten  years  would  feel 
the  same  way,  were  their  hour  of  discharge  so  near,  but  it 
looks  worse  for  us,  for  we  have  done  so  little  and  seen 
so  few  dangers. 

The  4>  Sunny  South"  sounds  nicely  enough  as  you  ride 
over  Berkshire  hills,  facing  a  northwester,  with  the  mer 
cury  twenty  degrees  belo\v  zero,  but  here,  with  that  mer 
cury  at  95°  in  the  shade  for  weeks  at  a  time,  the  poetry 
all  disappears.  Get  under  a  tree  and  look  down  the  road 
you  have  to  travel  for  a  mile,  and  you  can  think  of  nothing 
but  a  u  furnace  of  fire."  Every  mote  in  the  air  looks 
like  a  particle  of  flame.  An  hour  after  sunrise  or  an 
hour  before  sunset  and  it  is  seemingly  as  hot  as  at  noon. 
A  heavy  thunder-storm  passes  over,  and  the  next  day  is 
as  oppressive  as  the  day  before.  For  the  whole  twenty- 
four  hours  your  body  is  moist,  or  dripping  wilh  perspira 
tion.  If  your  are  cool  at  night  it  is  nothing  but  the  dank 
moisture,  driving  fever  to  your  vitals.  Showers  have 
been  infrequent,  and  the  dust,  pulverized  by  the  tread  of 
thousands  of  men  and  beasts,  is  more  than  ankle  deep. 
The  trees  and  bushes  are  covered  with  it,  and  in  the 
sun-light  look  like  smouldering  fires.  We  dress  accord 
ingly.  A  straw  hat,  a  shirt,  a  pair  of  breeches,  and  of 
shoes  (sometimes  stockings),  complete  our  wardrobe. 
Some  tried  to  dispense  with  the  use  of  shoes,  but  the 
ground  was  too  much  like  fire  to  allow  them  to  continue 
that  kind  of  economy.  Our  dark  blue  pants  have  no  suc 
cessors  in  this  department,  and  we  are  saving  our  new  light 
blue  ones  to  appear  creditably  when  'we  march  through 
Pittsfield  ;  so,  a  more  ragged  set  can  scarcely  be  found 
this  side  of  the  Five  Points.  Who  finds  a  pin,  labors  to 
make  himself  presentable ;  but,  as  our  u  pin-money"  is 
about  exhausted,  we  fear  that  decency  will  yet  drive  us 
to  the  original  fig-leaf.  This  might  be  avoided  were  our 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  261 

blouses  as  long  as  the  demands  of  modesty.  As  we 
brought  no  change  of  apparel,  some  need  those  blouses 
as  substitutes  for  the  shirts  they  throw  away.  As  the 
government  has  nearly  doubled  the  price  of  shirts,  a  few 
economical  ones  made  a  search  for  water,  and  found  some 
thin  mud  in  the  ditch  of  an  abandoned  rebel  fortification. 
There,  minus  soap,  they  graduated  as  washerwomen,  and 
quite  frequently  dried  and  ironed  their  wash  on  their 
backs,  so  as  to  return  within  the  prescribed  time.  Truth 
requires  me  to  say,  that  they  did  not  much  improve  the 
appearance,  though  they  may  have  added  to  the  sweet 
ness,  of  their  garments.  Whole  clothes  are  desirable 
everywhere,  much  more  in  a  country  where  bugs  and  in 
sects  of  all  kinds,  from  wood-ticks  to  lizards,  are  seeking 
places  of  shelter.  Flies  and  mosquitoes  have  not  yet 
followed  us  to  camp,  for  which  we  are  duly  thankful. 

Port  Hudson,  as  a  hygienic,  institution,  is  vastly  superior 
to  Baton  Rouge.  I  see  Lieutenants  Foster  and  Reed, 
Orderly  Jennings  and  others,  have  left  the  hospitals  of 
the  latter  place  for  the  post  of  duty  and  of  health.  We 
are  all  in  better  physical  condition  than  for  months  before. 
Considering  we  are  in  the  field,  we  are  fed  well  and 
hugely  enjoy  our  rations.  It  seems  that  Uncle  Sam  has 
been  reserving  the  "  best  wine  for  the  last  of  the  feast." 
Our  sick  are  improving  rapidly.  Though  we  experience 
somewhat  of  monotony,  it  is  the  monotony  of  excite 
ment,  by  which  we  thrive." 

Our  army  is  constantly  gaming  ground.  We  have 
driven  the  enemy  from  many  of  his  advanced  earthworks, 
into  the  main  parapet.  The  way  we  work  is  this— we, 
that  is,  infantry  soldiers,  throw  up  a  breastwork  as  a 
protection  to  artillerists,  some  six  feet  high  inside,  and 
from  thirty  to  a  hundred  feet  long,  according  to  the  num 
ber  of  guns  to  be  placed  in  position.  Bales  of  cotton  are 
rolled  along,  behind  which  we  commence  digging.  A 
solid  shot  striking  one  of  these  bales  square,  or  a  shell 
bursting  against  it,  makes  much  confusion,  but  that  is 


262  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

not  often  done.  The  greatest  danger  is  from  discharges 
of  grape  and  canister.  The  breastwork  is  from  fifteen 
to  twenty  feet  thick  at  the  bottom,  sloping  up  to  about 
three  at  the  top.  The  hole  from  which  this  dirt  is  taken 
makes  a  ditch  outside  the  parapet.  The  embrasures  or 
port-holes  are  lined  with  sand-bags.  Here  the  artillery 
is  posted.  Now,  as  the  gunners  are  few  in  number,  and 
most  of  them  unarmed,  it  becomes  necessary  to  protect 
them,  otherwise  the  enemy  might  make  a  sudden  attack, 
and  capture  or  sjiike  our  guns.  A  gun  is  spiked  by  driv 
ing  a  rat-tail  tile  into  the  touch-hole.  This  cannot  be 
pulled  out,  and  the  gun  is  useless  until  redrilled.  To 
prevent  this,  rifle-pits  are  dug  on  each  side  of  the  battery. 
Here,  infantry  troops  are  placed  to  repel  any  attack. 
This  is  called  "  supporting  a  battery."  Batteries  are  thus 
placed  all  along  our  semi-circular  front  from  river  to 
river,  a  distance  of  full  ten  miles.  If  these  batteries  can 
hold  their  ground,  others  are  established  still  farther  in 
front,  or,  in  inilit  iry  parlance,  we  "  advance  our  parallels/' 
Thus,  we  have  been  advancing,  constantly  driving  the 
enemy  before  us,  into  closer  quarters. 

There  is  more  of  this  kind  of  work  going  on,  on  the 
right  and  left,  than  on  the  centre.  Frequently,  the  rebels 
have  made  sorties,  but  with  no  success.  The  other  day, 
they  came  too  near  on  our  right,  but  retreated  when  they 
saw  the  negro  regiment  rushing  on  them  with  fixed  bay 
onets.  They  acted  as  if  they  believed  the  negro  would 
fight.  They  remember  the  27th  of  May,  and  have  no 
wish  to  try  that  valor,  intensified  by  the  vengeance  their 
own  barbarous  treatment  of  negro  prisoners  has  aroused. 
The  foe  fires  but  little,  evidently  hoarding  his  ammuni 
tion.  Their  silence  is  mysterious  and  oppressive.  They 
quietly  allow  us  to  put  up  batteries  right  under  their 
nose?.  Less  than  half  a  mile  distant,  we  have  in  posi 
tion  some  guns  that  fire  one-hundred-pound  shells.  With 
the  naked  eye,  they  could  see  us  at  work,  all  unshel- 
t  ivd,  and  yet  not  a  disturbing  shot,  save  a  lew  ran- 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEEES.  263 

dom  bullets.  Recently,  an  officer  rode  within  fifty  yards 
of  the  fort  without  molestation.  What  does  it  mean  ? 
Scarcity  of  ammunition,  or  a  snare  to  invite  us  on  to  de 
struction  ?  We  know  not.  I  learn  it  troubles  our  leading 
officers.  Port  Hudson  itself  is  nothing  but  a  collection 
of  a  few  houses,  a  store  and  a  church,  but  the  fortifica 
tions  are  nearly  five  miles  in  length  and  two  in  breadth, 
so  it  is  almost  impossible  to  materially  injure  the  garrison. 
If  shells  come  too  thick,  they  retreat  to  their  underground 
holes,  and  are  safe.  When  but  few  batteries  are  opening 
on  them,  they  soon  learn  the  range  of  our  guns,  and 
dodge  the  missiles.  Where  men  lie  down  on  the  inside 
of  the  parapet,  a  shell  has  to  burst  just  at  a  particular 
point,  or  they  will  be  unscathed.  We  have  poured  a 
great  deal  of  hardware  into  that  Sebnstopol,  rmd  can  see 
we  have  injured  a  great  many  trees,  but  rebel  prisoners 
and  deserters,  and  our  own  comrades  who  have  escaped 
from  their  clutches,  all  unite  in  saying  we  have  disabled 
them  but  little.  We  fire  constantly,  and  by  day  dis 
mount  many  of  their  guns,  which  they  replace  at  night. 
Thus,  we  scatter  the  wealth  of  the  nation,  but  secure  im 
munity  from  all  their  guns,  save  those  that  are  in  the  rear, 
or  on  the  river.  Entire  days  pass,  and  they  fire  not  a 
shot.  With  the  greatest  secrecy,  we  put  up  earth  works 
and  find  nothing  to  evidence  the  presence  of  a  watchful 
enemy.  Getting  bold,  we  walk  on  the  top  of  them,  or 
climb  above  the  hedges  to  pick  VLnckberries,  which  to  our 
comfort,  are  here  found  in  great  abundance ;  and  save  an 
occasional  bullet  from  some  riflemen  stationed  in  the 
trees,  are  not  molested.  One  of  our  boys,  in  picking 
some  berries,  lost  a  finger,  to  remind  him  that  berrying 
here  is  not  quite  as  safe  as  in  Berkshire.  Our  fire  wor 
ries  and  exhausts  the  garrison,  and  kills  horses  and  mules, 
burying  which  is  so  dangerous,  that  they  are  allowed  to 
rot  above  ground.  We  have  so  hemmed  them  in,  that 
they  cannot  drive  their  beeves  to  water,  therefore  they 
die  ;  and  their  time  of  starvation  or  surrender  is  hastened. 


264  LIFE    WITH   THE   FORTY-XINTH 

Sometimes,  at  night,  they  let  horses  out,  which  wander 
into  our  lines.  Killing  them  would  but  farther  taint  the 
air,  and  as  many  of  t<  listempered,  we  gain  little 

by  their  loss.  We  receive  but  little  help  from  the  gun 
boats.  If  they  could  assail  the  enemy  in  front,  we  might 
get  up  such  a  bombardment  as  would  lead  to  a  capitula 
tion  ;  but  now,  that  the  river  is  sixty  feet  lower  than  Port 
Hudson  bluffs,  they  would  have  to  elevate  their  guns  so 
high,  that  the  balls  and  shells  would  go  clean  over  the 
rebels  into  oar  midst.  The  foe  can  but  know  where  we 
are. situated,  and  if  they  are  not  really  entirely  destitute 
of  ammunition,  they  would  shell  us.  Massed  as  we  are, 
they  could  do  fearful  executi  »n. 

By  asbaujt  or  starvation  alone  can  we  succeed.  Assure 
us  thai  no  enemy  will  fall  on  our  rear,  and  the  latter  is 
the  preferable  manner ;  but  instead  of  being  assured  of 
that,  we  have  many  reasons  to  believe  the  contrary.  Sev 
eral  hundred  (rumor  says  several  thousand)  rebels  having 
been  seen  about  Clinton,  some  fifteen  miles  distant,  an 
expedition,  under  General  Paine,  was  sent  on  the  5th, 
to  disperse  them,  in  which  they  succeeded.  It  was  one 
of  our  dustiest,  hottest  days,  and  in  a  march  often  miles, 
no  less  than  forty-eight  fell  sun  struck,  or  exhausted.  Our 
regiment  was  spared  that  toil.  Quite  likely,  ere  another 
mail  goes,  we  may  again  assault  thi.s  stronghold  ;  for  \ve 
hear  it  is  decided  soon  to  open  on  them  with  all  our  guns, 
and  if  that  iails  to  bring  them  to  terms,  then  an  assault. 
To  make  that  assault  unnecessary,  Banks  is  adding  to  his 
already  large  park  of  artillery,  monster  guns  and  mortars. 
The  11-inch  guns  are  taken  from  the  fleet,  and  worked  by 
marines.  They  throw  ninety-pound  solid  shot,  or  a  hun 
dred  and  twenty-pound  conical  shell,  for  four  miles.  As 
they  are  being  placed  within  three-quarters  of  a  mile  of 
the  rebels,  they  will  do  much  execution  as  projectiles,  as 
well  as  shells.  The  guns  weigh  upwards  of  nine  thou 
sand  pounds  each.  Mortars  look  like  the  mortars  drug 
gists  use  to  compound  mediciues  in,  only  on  a  vaster 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEEES.  265 

scale,  being  about  three  feet  long  and  two  feet  in  diame 
ter  (these  are  rather  small  ones)  at  the  mouth.  A  peck 
of  powder  is  used  at  each  discharge.  How  any  thing  like 
accuracy  of  range  can  be  obtained,  is  a  puzzle  to  all  save 
gunners.  Colonel  Hodge,  of  Massachusetts,  has  an  engi-* 
ueer  regiment  composed  of  stalwart  negroes,  great,  lusty 
fellows,  who  put  our  muscles  to  shame,  on  whom  the  bur 
den  of  preparing  earth-works  for  batteries  and  the  rifle- 
pits  mostly  falls.  They  are  some  of  them  who  carried 
boxes  of  cartridges  to  their  comrades,  under  the  fire  of 
May  27th.  Their  work  is  replete  with  danger ;  but  the 
silence  of  the  enemy  emboldens  them.  Some  of  this  work 
falls  on  us.  The  other  night  our  boys  were  occupied  in 
rolling  bales  of  cotton  along  the  road,  across  which  we 
charged  in  the  late  battle.  It  was  a  hazardous  task,  but 
they  were  not  molested.  I  suppose  Banks  has  nearly 
two  hundred  pieces  of  artillery,  independently  of  his  gun 
boats.  There  is  scarcely  a  foot  of  ground,  from  river  to 
river,  but  ~%hat  is  covered  by  our  cannons.  Miles  of  roads 
are  being  made  through  the  woods ;  bridges  span  nearly 
every  hollow,  while  league  on  league  of  rifle-pits  attest 
our  industry.  We  are  fed  well,  and  we  understand  the 
order  is  to  give  the  best  of  the  food,  and  the  heaviest  of 
the  work,  to  the  nine  months'  men.  So,  where  the  three 
years'  men  get  oily  pork,  we  get  good  salt  beef,  and  then 
a  few  furlongs  of  rifle-pit  digging  is  thrown  in,  to  keep  us 
from  dyspepsia.  Keen  as  are  our  appetites,  we  would  be 
willing  to  have  shorter  rations,  and  shorter  work.  The 
law  J£,  get  what  you  can  out  of  the  nine-morithlings,  and 
save  the  three  years'  troops  for  subsequent  labors.  Right, 
I  suppose,  but  our  bones  protest,  and  we  are  all  becoming 
*' nigger- worshippers."  Every  day  adds  more  or  less  to 
the  African  element,  and  we  gaze  on  their  splendid  forms 
with  some  envy  and  much  joy,  for  our  toil  is  in  inverse 
proportion  to  their  number.  Never  fear  that  soldiers  will 
be  found  objecting  to  negro  enlistments.  One  hour's 
digging  in  Louisiana  clay,  under  a  Louisiana  sun,  and  we 
22 


266  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

are  forever  pledged  to  do  all  we  can  to  fill  up  our  ranks 
with  the  despised  and  long-neglected  race. 

Each  day,  prisoners  are  brought  in.  Most  of  them  are 
fine-looking  fellows.  In  their  butternut  clothes,  they  look 
much  more  presentable  than  we  do.  Save  a  little  red 
facing  on  the  collars  and  wristbands  of  officers,  you  can 
not  tell  them  from  privates  by  their  dress.  In  this,  they 
show  a  wisdom  all  officers  would  do  well  to  imitate.  They 
report  that  their  only  hope  is  in  Johnston  compelling  us 
to  raise  the  siege,  raid  that  many  of  the  officers  are  will 
ing  to  surrender,  but  General  Gardner  is  determined  to 
hold  out  to  the  last  ear  of  corn.  He*  is  a  deserter  from 
our  army,  and  in  his  haste  to  join  the  rebels,  did  not  stop 
to  resign  his  commission,  so  lie  may  fear  that  his  surren 
der  will  be  followed  by  a  deserter's  death.  He  does  us 
honor  overmuch.  I  fear  we  have  not  yet  reached  so  com 
mendable  a  severity. 

Before  our  army  shut  them  in,  the  rebels  confiscated 
much  of  the  food  of  the  surrounding  planters..  Hearing 
that  we  could  exchange  some  of  our  hard  crackers  and 
doubtful  pork  (we  can't  get  all  beef)  for  chickens  and 
milk,  Hulet  and  I  visited  a  Mrs.  Cage  for  that  com 
mendable  purpose.  Her  husband  is  in  the  rebel  army, 
and  she  is  blessed  with  forty  slaves,  or  to  use  the  eupho 
nious  language  of  the  South,  "  forty  head  of  niggers,"  so 
attached  to  her  that  they  will  not  leave  her.  We  left  our 
rations  and  got  the  coveted  delicacies.  That  lady  and 
her  children  ate  the  food  we  carried  as  greedily  as  our 
children  eat  pound-cake.  I  found  that  she  did  not  fear.the 
Yankees,  but  stood  in  mortal  terror  of  the  black  troops, 
saying  that  when  we  leave,  they  will  murder,  ravage,  and 
ravish.  If  they  should  ravish,  who  taught  them  that  power 
meant  the  right  to  use  woman  as  their  passions  might 
dictate  ? 

"  He  that  of  old  did  bend  the  oak, 
Dreamed  not  of  the  rebound." 

Pilfer  the  negroes  do,  but  not  more  than  white  soldiers, 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  267 

and  strange  that  consciousness  of  power  don't  lead  them 
to  pilfer  more.  Treat  them  kindly,  and  they  will  quietly 
forgive  the  wrongs  of  centuries ;  but  any  revival  of 
plantation  manners  will  rouse  a  devil  that  only  blood  and 
outraged  beauty  will  appease.  The  negro  is  of  a  docile 
race.  In  my  numerous  conversations  with  them  I  never 
heard  them  threaten  their  former  masters,  and,  hard  as  it 
may  be  to  hear  it,  they  behave  better  than  the  great  ma 
jority  of  white  soldiers.  Punishments  among  them  are 
far  less  frequent,  and  I  have  yet  to  hear  of  one  instance 
of  their  outraging  female  purity.  They  seem  to  be  too 
glad  that  they  are  fre*e,  to  harbor  thoughts  of  vengeance. 
Slavery  in  Louisiana  is  dead,  and  if  the  masters  will  not 
attempt  to  revive  it,  they  can  live  at  peace  with* their 
negroes ;  but  any  attempt  to  re-enslave  men  who  have 
felt  the  inspiration  of  May  27th,  will  arouse  a  fiend,  be 
fore  whose  ravages  the  horrors  of  St.  Domingo  will  sink 
into  insignificance. 

We  have  several  of  their  camps  near  us.  They  are 
neat  and  clean,  and  a  visit  to  them  pays.  For  the  first 
time,  I  have  seen  some  of  the  native  joyousness  of  the 
negro  cropping  out,  and  have  gazed  on  the  first  banjo. 
They  are  beginning  to  realize  that  they  have  paid  for 
their  freedom  with  their  blood,  and  have  a  right  to  be 
happy.  General  Paine  sent  word  to  us  that  we  must 
stop  our  singing  of  hymns  ;  why,  we  could  not  tell ;  but 
General  Augur,  who  tents  near  the  negro  camp,  does  not 
disturb  them,  and  so  our  nights  are  often  blessed  with 
their  songs  of  praise,  as  they  assemble  in  prayer-meetings. 
More  fortunate  than  we,  they  have  their  wives  with  them, 
at  least,  women  they  call  their  wives.  Generally,  the 
negro  has  but  dim  conception  of  the  sacredness  of.  the 
marriage  relation.  If  his  wife  is  sold  from  him,  he  looks 
upon  her  as  dead  to  him,  and  marries  again.  If  unwilling, 
he  is  often  forced  into  wedlock,  for  the  Moloch  of  Slavery 
demands  for  his  victims  unbroken  generations  of  children. 
In  these  times,  when  a  voice  is  saying,  "  Overturn  !  over- 


268  LIFE    WITH   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

turn  !"  the  original  husband  and  wife  sometimes  meet ; 
and  I  have  heard  of  cases  where  the  second  marriage  not 
being  a  happy  one,  has  been  rectified  by  the  parties  mutu 
ally  returning  to  their  first  loves.  The  distribution  of 
the  children  might  cause  us  trouble,  but  thvy  have  been 
taught  that  the  child  follows  the  mother,  and  that  the 
father  is  merely  the  author  of  their  existence.  At  our 
last  visit  to  Mrs.  Cage,  we  found  the  chickens  had  disap 
peared,  and  the  brigade  commissary  had  levied  on  her 
cows,  and  worse  than  all,  her  servants  had  caught  the 
inspiration  of  Freedom  and  joined  the  "  damned  Yankees." 
I  was  rather  disappointed,  thinking  that  I  had  at  last 
found  a  nest  of  them  who  so  loved  their  mistress,  that 
they  preferred  slavery  to  freedom.  Some  assert  that 
negroes  are  not  human ;  certainly  they  have  a  strange 
iiack  of  doing  what  human  beings  do  when  placed  in 
similar  circumstances.  Liberty  has  a  charm  to  the  poor 
serf;  but  liberty,  in  union  with  the  flesh-pots  of  our  com 
missaries,  is  irresistible. 

A  few  days  since,  the  medical  department  treated  us 
to  iced  claret-punch.  Grumblers  might  have  discovered 
that  the  claret  was  hardly  in  full  proportion  to  the  water, 
but  as  it  wras  sweet  and  cold,  we  gratefully  quenched  our 
thirst  with  it,  and  hoped  they  would  not  become  weary 
in  well  doing.  We  have  been  cleaning  camp,  and  doing 
other  work,  indicative  of  a  prolonged  stay.  For  the  first 
time  since  leaving  Baton  Rouge,  we  are  allowed  to  go 
about  without  wearing  our  equipments.  We  have  been 
enabled  to  recover  a  good  many  of  the  guns  left  on  the 
battle-field.  Our  artillery  and  sharpshooters  have  kept 
the  rebels  away,  and  the  boys  bring  the  trophies  in. 
Each  side  sends  pickets  out,  and  in  that  Golgotha,  they 
renew  the  scenes  of  the  27th  on  a  miniature  scale.  At 
first,  the  skirmishers  came  in  at  night ;  but  now  they 
skirmish  by  day,  and  do  picket-duty  at  night.  A  battle 
implies  less  exhaustion  and  mental  anxiety  than  a  day's 
skirmishing.  They  gradually  creep  up  as  near  the  para- 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  269 

pet  as  possible.  Outside  thereof  come  rebel  skirmishers, 
within  twenty  rods  of  them.  There  they  lie  all  day, 
baked  in  the  hot  sun.  If  they  show  any  part  of  their 
bodies,  a  bullet  zips  by  them  to  remind  them  that  dis 
cretion  is  the  better  part  of  valor.  They  must  load  on 
their  back  or  side,  and  fire  whenever  they  get  a  chance. 
Sometimes  they  put  their  hats  on  twigs  and  elevate  them 
above  the  protecting  stump  to  draw  the  bullets  of  the-ir 
opponents,  and  then  exposing  themselves  to  fire,  learn  by 
the  number  of  balls  rattling  round  them  that  they  are 
watched  by  many  pairs  of  fierce  eyes.  Strange  that  so 
few  are  hurt,  and  those  are  generally  the  victims  of  rebel 
riflemen,  perched  in  trees  !  From  some  of  the  trees  you 
can  see  jets  of  smoke,  but  it  is  almost  impossible  to  locate 
the  enemy.  Occasionally,  a  mass  of  something  is  seen 
dropping  from  the  branches,  and  no  more  smoke  springs 
from  that  place.  Often  they  spend  hours  without  daring 
to  move.  One  poor  fellow  was  trying  to  reach  a  good 
shelter,  when  the  order  to  open  fire  compelled  him  to 
drop  down  where  he  then  was,  behind  a  small  stump 
barely  sufficient  to  hide  his  head.  On  his  face,  the  sun 
pouring  down  on  his  spine  and  driving  the  hot  blood  to 
his  brain,  he  lay  all  that  livelong  day.  He  dared  not 
move  to  load  or  fire,  or  to  reach  his  canteen  or  haversack. 
The  "  forlorn  hope"  was  nothing  to  that.  Lieutenant . 
Sissons,  who,  leaving  the  hospital,  which  was  so  nearly 
his  death-chamber,  is  now  here  in  command  of  Company 
E.  He  went  out  skirmishing,  and  on  his  return,  from  his 
neck  to  his  hips  was  one  solid  blister,  the  sun  having  thus 
scorched  him  through  his  clothes.  Battles  tell  but  a 
small  part  of  the  dangers  and  discomforts  of  the  soldier. 
After  such  a  day,  a  night  of  picket-duty  closes  up  the 
work  of  twenty-four  hours.  At  first  our  skirmishers  kept 
up  a  pretty  rapid  fire,  but,  finding  that  only  increased 
their  danger  without  doing  execution,  they  now  rarely 
fire  unless  they  get  a  good  aim.  Towards  night  the  set 
ting  sun  blinds  our  boys,  and  gives  the  rebels  a  fine 


270  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

chance  to  damage  us.  Sunrise  reverses  the  position  of 
affairs,  and  now  the  firing  is  mainly  confined  to  those  two 
seasons.  You  may  ask,  what  good  results  from  all  this  ? 
If  it  were  not  done,  rebel  aharpihooters  would  creep  up 
and  cut  off  our  gunners.  Not  only  is  that  now  avoided, 
but  we  can  keep  them  from  setting  up  or  manning  their 
cannons.  The  foe  put  up  sand-bags  on  the  top  of  the 
parapets,  leaving  small  spaces  for  the  rifle  and  for  sight 
ing  it;  and,  strange  as  it  is,  in  some  cases  our  men  send 
their  unerring  bullets  right  through  these  apertures,  and 
crashing  into  eyes  that  are  seeking  chances  to  destroy 
n>. 

On  the  31st  ult.,  Colonel  Paine,  acting  brigadier,  sent 
for  Captain  Kennie,  who  is  reputed  a  good  shot,  and 
asked  him  if  he  could  hit  a  man  at  a  distance  of  twenty- 
five  rods.  The  captain  said,  "  Yes,"  and  they  together 
climbed  a  tree,  from  which  the  colonel  showed  Rennie 
the  work  he  had  carved  out  for  him  and  a  squad  of  six 
teen  picked  men.  It  was  to  silence  two  G4-pounders  on 
either  side  of  the  roads,  guns  which  so  galled  us  on  the 
27th.  Five  of  the  men  followed  the  captain  to  within 
ten  rods  of  the  parapet,  and  kept  those  guns  silent  the 
rest  of  that  day.  About  3  p.  M.,  the  rebels  sent  a  small 
detachment  over  their  breast-works  to  flank  them,  when 
they  retreated  safely,  despite  the  various  leaden  invita 
tions  to  tarry,  one  of  which  saved  the  captain  the  trouble 
of  carrying  his  cap  for  six  feet,  and  affectionately  severed 
a  lock  of  his  hair,  as  a  memento  of  work  so  done  as 
greatly  to  please  the  brigadier,  who,  from  a  tree,  was 
watching  the  modus  opcratuli  •  and,  on  seeing  the  ene 
my's  flank  movements,  felt  certain  that  there  would  be  a 
fresh  sprinkling  of  blue-breeches  among  the  butternuts 
that  night. 

Exciting  as  are  these  scenes,  they  wear  on  the  troops, 
and  deplete  our  small  army.  Battle  and  sickness  reduced 
our  number,  between  the  twenty-third  and  thirtieth  of 
May,  1,000  men.  Up  to  June  4th,  we  have  lost  by  death 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  271 

and  wounds  80,  and  by  sickness  75  men.  By  disease  and 
sun-strokes,  this  army  loses  fifty  per  day.  War  is  fear 
fully  expensive.  To  keep  effective  an  army  of  half  a 
million,  it  is  necessary  to  recruit  yearly  123,000  men,  and 
to  maintain  58,000  in  hospitals.  In  view  of  these  facts, 
and  of  our  emaciated  sick,  refusing  the  aid  of  the  negroes 
was  almost  a  crime.  In  this  department  there  are  twelve 
whites  sick  to  one  black. 

Lieut.  Kellogg  (I)  has  been  honorably  discharged  and 
lias  left  us.  He  sent  in  his  resignation  long  before  we 
commenced  this  campaign.  Captain  Train  has  returned 
to  Baton  Rouge.  I  wonder  that  he  remained  so  long, 
suffering  as  he  did  with  erysipelas.  His  feet  and  the 
lower  part  of  his  legs  are  one  solid  scab.  In  the  absence 
of  our  surgeons,  he  not  only  commands  the  camp  but  is 
surgeon  thereto ;  no  ordinary  compliment  for  a  homoeopa- 
thist  to  receive  from  an  old-school  medical  director.  I 
can  but  believe  his  system  of  practice  would  work  better 
than  that  of  the  heroic  school.  The  captain's  sympa 
thetic  nature  would  add  to  the  efficacy  of  his  drugs. 
Many  of  the  sick  want  sympathy  above  every  thing  else. 
God  pity  them,  as  they  gradually  die,  away  from  all  held 
most  dear !  There  they  lie,  hearing  the  groans  or  deliri 
ous  cries  of  their  comrades,  only  relieved  by  the  carrying 
away  of  corpse  after  corpse.  Quite  a  number  of  our  men 
have  lost  fingers  or  toes  by  accidental  discharges  of  their 
own  guns.  Such  accidents  are  mortifyingly  frequent. 
J.  Smith  (E)  and  R.  Vanderburgh  (J)  were  wounded 
while  skirmishing. 

It  is  said  the  rebels  lost  280  on  the  27th.  That  may 
explain  the  reason  why  they  did  not  molest  us  as  we 
carried  off  our  wounded.  M.  H.  Tuttle,  orderly  of 
Company  E,  led  our  storming  party,  and  led  it  well  and 
bravely.  He  was  one  of  those  who  almost  stole  away 
from  the  hospital  to  do  his  part  where  brave  men  were 
needed.  We  fear  that  Lieutenants  Sherman  and  Siggins 
will  die,  and  that  the  Colonel  cannot  save  his  arm.  Some 


272  LIFE    WITH    THE    FOKTY-XIXTI! 

others  of  our  wounded  aiv  very  low.  Jolmny  Bryee  (A)  has 
had  his  right  :irm  amputated.  He  and  Knde,  ot' the  same 
company,  were  markers,  whose  duty  it  is  to  bear  small 
flags,  one  of  which  is  placed  at  each  end  of  the  column, 
to  enable  the  regiment  more  readily  to  form  a  straight 
line.  Doing  that  work,  amid  the  scenes  of  the  27th,  be 
longed  to  the  heroic,  and  in  doing  it  young  Bryce  lost 
his  arm.  His  empty  sleeve  will  long  teach  lessons  of 
patriotism  more  eloquent  than  the  finest  speeches  of 
those  who  only  scent  the  battle  from  afar. 

"  It  tells  of  a  battle-field  of  gore— 
Of  the  sabre's  clash — of  the  cannon's  roar — 
Of  the  deadly  charge — of  the  bugle's  note — 
Of  a  gurgling  sound  in  a  foeman's  throat  — 
Of  the  whixxing  grape — of  the  tiery  shell — 
\\iiich  mimics  the, scenes  of  hell. 
Till  this  very  hour,  would  you  e'er  believe 
"What  a  tell-tale  tiling  is  an  empty  sleeve — 
What  a  weird,  queer  thing  is  an  empty  sleeve?" 

Few  poems  convey  so  good  a  general  idea  of  a  fierce 
conflict  as  these  lines  of  Bayard  Taylor : 

"  Then  the  rattling  roll  of  the  musketeers, 
And  the  muilled  drums  and  the  rallying  cheers; 
And  the  ritles  burn  with  a  keen  .' 
Like  tiir  eraekling  whips  of  the  hemlock  lire; 
And  the  sighing  shot  and  the  shrieking  shell, 
d  the  splintered  (ire  of  the  shattered  hell, 
And  tin-  givat  white  breaths  of  the  cannon-smoke, 
As  the  growling  gun-  by  the  batteries  spoke 
In  syllables  cropped  from  the  thunder  of  God — 
The  throb  of  the  cloud  where  the  drummer-boy  trod, 
And  the  ragged  gaps  in  the  walls  of  blue, 
Yv'here  the  iron  surge  rolls  heavily  through, 
That  the  Colonel  builds  with  a  breath  again, 
As  he  cleaves  the  din  with  f  Close  up,  men  !' 

11  And  the  groan  torn  out  from  the  blackened  lip, 
And  the  prayer  doled  slow  with  the  crimson  drip; 
And  the  beamy  look  in  the  dyin_ 
As  under  the  cloud  the  >t.-irs  go  by  ! 
But  his  soul  marched  on,  the  captain  said, 
For  the  soldier  in  blue  can  never  be  dead ! 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  273 

And  the  troopers  sit  in  their  saddles  all, 

As  the  statues  carved  in  an  ancient  hall ; 

And  they  watch  the  whirl  from  their  breathless  ranks, 

And  their  spurs  are  close  to  the  horses'  flanks, 

And  the  fingers  work,  of  the  sabre-hand — 

Oh,  to  bid  them  live,  and  to  make  them  grand  ! 

And  the  bugle  sounds  to  the  charge  at  last, 

And  away  they  plunge,  and  the  front  is  past ; 

And  the  jackets  blue  grow  red  as  they  ride, 

And  the  scabbards,  too,  that  clank  by  their  side  ; 

And  the  dead  soldiers  deaden  the  strokers'  iron-shod 

As  they  gallop  right  on  o'er  the  plashy  red  sod — 

Right  into  the  cloud  all  spectral  and  dim, 

Right  up  to  the  guns  black-throated  and  grim, 

Right  down  on  the  hedges  bordered  with  steel, 

Right  through  the  dense  columns,  then  '  Right  about  wheel !' 

"  Hurrah !  a  new  swath  through  the  harvest  again ! 
Hurrah  for  the  flag !  to  the  battle  amen  !" 

The  accompanying  verses,  from  the  ready  pen  of 
Lieiit.-Col.  Sumner,  will  give  you  an  admirable  descrip 
tion  of  the  part  our  regiment  really  took  in  the  memora 
ble  battle  of  the  27th  May.  The  high  hopes  that  animated 
us  on  entering  the  field ;  the  reversion  of  feeling  when 
we  met,  not  danger  and  death,  but  obstructions  that  con 
vinced  us  we  could  die,  not  conquer ;  the  gloom  surround 
ing  the  fall  of  our  leaders ;  the  dauntless  pressing  on, 
though  thus  bereft ;  the  seeking  shelter  only  when  expo 
sure  was  fool-hardiness;  the  silent  bearing  awray  our 
comrades  ;  stepping  over  our  dead ;  our  mingled  saclness 
and  pride  on  returning — all  are  here  portrayed  as  only 
could  be  done  by  one  who  had  been  an  active  participant 
therein : 

THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  FORTY-NINTH. 

"Forward,  now,  the  Forty-ninth  !"  the  General's  mandate  came; 
"  Attention,  Third  Battalion  !"  was  the  Colonel's  prompt  exclaim; 
Now,  you  sons  of  Berkshire,  your  craving  hour  has  come,  ' 
Prove  your  fond  fidelity  to  ancestry  and  home  ! 

Straightway  from  the  undergrowth  our  gallant  boys  upsprang; 
Rapid  and  sonorous  the  familiar  accents  rang : 
"  Right  face !    Lively  !   Forward,  march  !"    Meanwhile  in  each  eye 
Mark  the  firm  resolve  that  dareth  both  to  do  and  die. 
12* 


274  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

Through  the  tangled  bushes  stealthily  we  trend, 
While  the  shells  are  burst  ing  inatlly  overhead; 
Now  we  reaeh  the  open,  and,  across  the  plain, 
See  tlie  rebel  cannon  >pouting  leaden  ruiu. 

"  On  the  right,  by  iile  in  line  !"  rapidly  we  form ; 

"  For\vard  march  !  guide  centre  !"     No\v  the  tiery  storm, 

With  redoubled  fury,  vexes  earth  and  sky, 

As  our  glorious  banner  greets  the  foeman's  eye. 

Gallantly,  I  "-fore  us,  in  the  thrilling  scene 

March  the  storming  party,  with  musket  and  fascine; 

'.  their  step.-  they  hasten  '.     "  Double-quick" — now  then 
Conn-f,  the  tug  of  battle;  quit  yourselves  like  men  ! 

Ah,  what  rebel  cunning  had  prepared  the  way  ! 
IV  lied  trees,  !«>-•>,  and  branches,  in  our  pathway  lay ; 
Still  our  tlai;  ni»ves  forward  !  ay,  and  not  alone, 
For  our  line  of  battle  bravely  holds  its  own. 

Q     !  of  mercy,  help  us  !     Twice  the  murderous  balls 
Strike  our  hero  Colon-'l ;  ah,  he  reels!  he  falls! 
Our  Lieutenant-Colonel,  "Onward!  onward!"  crying, 
In  an  instant  stricken,  on  the  iield  is  lying ! 

Yet  our  boys  undaunted,  with  their  might  and  main 
Strive  to  gain  the  ramparts,  but  alas!  in  vain. 
From  those  fatal  ramparts,  looming  still  afar, 
How  the  foe  exultant  hurls  the  bolts  of  war! 

Through  our  ranks,  where  glittered  bayonet-blade, 
See  what  deadly  havoc  shot  and  shell  have  made! 
Of  that  proud  battalion,— fresh-lipped  mm  and  brave — 
Scores  no\v  groan  in  anguish;  some  have  found  a  grave. 

Strive  no  longer  vainly,  now  that  hope  is  past ; 
Let  the  logs  ami  pitfalls  be  your  shield  at  last; 
Down,  then !     Down  for  safety,  ye  who  still  survive ; 
Thank  the  God  of  battles,  ye  are  yet  alive. 

Softly  soon  the  day-king  sinks  unto  his  rest, 
And  the  grateful  twilight  deepens  in  the  west ; 
HushecKhr  din  of  battle  ;  now,  with  footsteps  fleet, 
Weary,  saddened  soldiers  make  their  swift  retreat. 

Lo!  what  scenes  confront  them,  as  they  rearward  tread; 
Here  a  comrade  wounded,  there  a  comrade  dead ! 
Friends  at  home,  and  kindred,  ah !  what  would  you  say, 
Could  you  see  your  petted  Forty-ninth  to-day ! 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  275 

This  at  least,  in  future  say,  with  honest  pride, 
"Berkshire  boys  right  uobly  fought,  and  bled,  and  died;" 
Ever  let  their  actions  be  rehearsed  in  story, 
And  their  names  encircled  with  a  wreath  of  glory. 

Henry  Richardson  (H),  of  Sandisfield,  aged  eighteen 
years,  died  in  the  hospital  at  Baton  Rouge,  of  con  sump, 
tion,  June  9th.  He  was  a  fine  steady  boy,  long  sick,  and 
has  gone  to  his  rest. 

John  W.  Fitzgerald  (D),  carriage-maker,  from  Barring- 
ton,  aged  nineteen  years,  died  of  diarrhoea  in  the  general 
hospital  at  Baton  Rouge  on  the  30th  of  May.  He  was  a 
fine  Irish  boy,  and  a  steady,  good  soldier.  The  main 
dependence  of  an  aged  mother,  his  loss  will  be  severely 
felt. 

Company  E  and  Sheffield  lost  in  the  death  of  our  drum 
mer-boy,  Henry  L.  Holmes,  an  excellent  soldier,  and  a 
promising  lad  of  nineteen  years.  He  died  at  Baton 
Rouge,  June  1st.  One  of  his  officers  said,  "He  was  the 
finest  kind  of  boy."  When  a  soldier  so  demeans  himself 
among  soldiers  as  to  merit  such  an  encomium,  you  can 
imagine  how  great  the  sorrow  in  that  blighted  home 
that  gave  him  to  God,  his  country,  and  his  lonely  grave. 

Henry  L.  Beach  (H),  dentist,  from  Lee,  aged  twenty- 
three,  was  wounded  May  27th,  and  died  at  Baton  Rouge, 
June  3d.  He  was  a  brave,  steady,  and  reliable  soldier, 
and  an  intelligent  man.  Among  those  who,  unconscious 
of  our  experience  of  the  past  fortnight,  are  fondly  await 
ing  the  return  of  the  Forty-ninth,  there  are  hearts  to 
whom  that  return  will  bring  no  joy,  save  pride  in  their 
patriotic  dead.  To  that  increasing  number  is  now  added 
the  young  wife  and  child  of  our  buried  comrade. 

James  Cressor  (I)  died  of  typhoid  fever  on  the  4th 
mst.,  at  Baton  Rouge.  -He  was  a  Canadian,  and  enlisted 
from  Pittsburg.  His  age  was  eighteen  years. 

Charles  Edward  Platt  (A)  died  at  the  general  hos 
pital  at  Baton  Rouge  on  the  6th  inst.  He  was  wounded 
in  the  leg  at  the  recent  battle.  Neither  he  nor  any  of 


270  LIFE  WITU  THE  FORTY-NINTH 

his  comrades  thought  his  wound  was  serious.  Wlu  n 
they  were  about  to  remove  him  from  the  Held,  he  re 
quested  them  to  leave  him  and  attend  to  others  who  were 
more  severely  injured,  lie  was  taken  to  the  city,  and 
there  died.  Perchance  his  life  might  have  been  preserv.-!, 
had  he  received  proper  care  ;  but,  not  considering  him 
self  in  a  dangerous  state,  and  being  one  of  those  who 
rarely  complain,  his  wound  was  not  dressed  for  some  days 
after  his  entering  the  hospital.  Mortification  set  in,  and 
soon  ended  the  career  of  o~he  of  our  best  boys.  He  was 
a  son  of  C.  B.  Platt,  of  Pittsfield,  who  was  opposed  to 
his  enlisting  on  the  ground  of  his  youth,  being  but  seven 
teen  years  old.  Large  and  stout  for  his  age,  he  thought 
he  could  do  the  duties  of  a  soldier,  and,  until  that  fatal 
d:iy,  none  did  them  better.  His  officers  speak  of  him  in 
the  highest  terms.  Leaving  a  comfortable  Jhome,  know 
ing  nothing  of  hardships,  privations,  or  dangers,  he  went 
forth,  yearning  to  do  something  to  maintain  the  honor  of 
his  country,  and  in  every  sphere  measured  up  to  the 
claims  of  duty.  Untried,  he  yet  faltered  not  when  came 
the  order  to  enter  the  valley  of  death.  His  young  heart 
may  have  trembled,  but  his  firm  will  bore  him  on  till  the 
bullet  of  the  foe  laid  him  low.  Bearing  up  against  the 
temptations  of  the  camp,  bold  in  the  fiery  furnace,  his 
eoldier-life  Avas  worthy  of  imitation  ;  but  prouder,  sweeter 
Ft  ill  his  death.  Always  moral,  yet  it  was  reserved  for 
the  gloom  of  the  hospital  to  witness  his  union  with 
Christ.  Teachings  that  had  often  been  impressed  on  his 
inind  then  sank  into  his  heart,  and  brought  forth  that 
faith  which  enables  the  dying  lips  to  utter,  "  I  have  fought 
a  good  fight."  His  last  words  were  asking  a  comrade  to 
write  to  his  parents,  and  say  to  them  that  he  should  meet 
them  in  heaven.  Thus,  thinking  of  his  earthly  and  his 
heavenly  home,  he  departed  to  his  Maker.  There  will  be 
«!rep  sorrow  in  that  earthly  home,  but  some  ray  of  glory 
from  the  heavenly  will  gild  it.  Happy  those  parents  of 
whose  son  it  can  be  said,  "  He  lived  well  and  died  a 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  277 

Christian  soldier."     Human  hearts,  though  throbbing  in 
sorrow,  will  sweetly  remember  that — 

"  The  golden  bells  of  the  city  of  God 
Have  rung  his  welcome  in." 

Godfrey  Wolfinger  (K)  died  of  typhoid  fever  at 
Baton  Rouge  on  the  8th  instant.  He  was  a  farmer  boy 
from  Stockbridge,  aged  eighteen  years.  A  fine  boy  he 
was,  and  a  good  soldier.  Poor  dear  fellow !  How  he 
yearned  to  participate  in  the  dangers  of-  this  campaign  ! 
Begging  so  hard,  he  received  permission  to  start  with  us, 
but  soon  had  to  return.  Truly,  his  zeal  was  greater  than 
his  strength.  The  brave-hearted  lad  fought  his  last  battle 
amid  the  dreariness  and  loneliness  of  the  hospital,  and 
after  "  life's  fitful  fever,  sleeps  well."  All  honor  to  the 
noble  soul  that  craved  no  higher  boon  than  to  fall  fighting 
in  the  thickest  of  the  strife,  for  the  honor  of  the  dear  old 
flag  to  yield  up  his  life.  God  accepted  the  unaccomplish 
ed  heroism,  and  among  the  "fallen  brave"  of  the  Forty- 
ninth,  we  write  high  up  the  name  of  Godfrey  Wolfinger. 
Frederick  Belcher  (B),  a  Ne\v  Ashford  farmer,  was  a 
steady  man,  and  a  brave,  reliable  soldier.  On  the  27th  he 
was  wounded  in  the  leg,  and  recovering  from  that,  was  at 
tacked  with  diphtheria,  which  caused  his  death,  June  10th, 
in  the  21st  year  of  his  age.  He  leaves  a  brother  in  the 
same  company,  to  go  home  without  the  Benjamin  of  the 
household,  and  to  hear  one  of  the  saddest  lefrains  of  this 
war :  "  If  I  am  bereaved  of  my  children,  I  am  bereaved." 


278  LIFE    WITH    TlIE    FOKTV-MM'IJ 


LETTER    XXX. 

BEFORE  PORT  HUDSON,  LA.,  June  15,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

We  yet  cull  this,  our  old  camp,  home,  though  the  regi 
ment  is  here  but  a  small 'portion  of  the  time,  having  for 
several  days  lived  in  and  about  rifle-pits  a  life  more  no\vl 
than  pleasant.  Familiarity  breeds  contempt  of  rebels,  and 
whereas  we  used  to  stay  in  the  pits  the  greater  part  of 
the  time,  crouching  down  behind  the  earthwork,  now  we 
wander  about  as  if  almost  unconscious  that  behind  the 
parapet  we  can  see  so  plainly,  and  within  easy  rifle  range 
there  are  thousands  of  lurking  foes.  Occasionally,  a  few 
bullets  whiz  past  us,  and  we  look  around  to  see  if  any 
one  is  hit  ;  and  if  all  are  safe,  seem  about  as  unconcerned 
n<  if  we  were  in  the  old  Bay  State.  We  fire  but  little, 
for  the  enemy  rarely  gives  us  a  chance  to  make  our  shots 
tell ;  and  Yankees  count  the  cost,  even  where  Uncle  Sam 
foots  the  bill.  Our  food  is  cooked  in  the  rear,  and 
brought  to  us  by  cooks  and  by  the  musicians,  whose  oc 
cupation  now  being  gone,  thus  render  themselves  useful. 
Bailey,  cook  of  Co.  I),  thought  he  would  carry  out  the 
breakfast  a  few  mornings  since,  and  was  administering 
allopathic  doses  of  strong  coffee,  when  a  spent  bullet  hit 
ting  P.  Devanny,  of  that  company,  in  the  shoulder,  as 
sured  him  that  if  cooking  was  less  heroic  than  soldiering, 
it  was  certainly  safer.  Our  rifle-pits,  being  well  shaded, 
are  not  very  uncomfortable  in  dry  weather ;  but  as  the 
fashion  is  now  to  have  a  shower  nearly  every  evening, 
the  foot  or  eighteen  inches  of  water  that  collect  therein, 
make  our  beds  resemble  feathers  .only  in  the  quality  of 
softness.  The  second  night  on  taking  possession  of  these 
pits,  we  slept  in  them,  defiant  of  their  muddy  condition. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLTJNTEEKS.  279 

The  night  before  we  kept  awake,  and  tried  to  do  so  that 
night,  but  sleep  conquered  our  aversion  to  water  and  mud, 
and  resting  our  backs  against  one  side,  and  propping  with 
our  feet  against  the  other,  we  sought  the  balmy  restorer 
under  peculiar  difficulties.  We  could  maintain  our  po 
sitions  a  while,  but  when  Morpheus  got  the  mastery,  down 
we  would  flap  into  the  water,  our  own  discomfort,  and 
the  strong  language  of  our  disturbed  comrades,  assuring 
us  that  dreams  were  false,  if  they  had  conveyed  us  to  the 
chambers  of  Berkshire.  Towards  morning,  it  little  mat 
tered  whether  we  were  lying  in  OK  out  of  the  water,  so 
we  got  some  sleep.  With  my  usual  good  fortune,  I  se 
cured  a  bed  on  the  roots  of  a  tree,  with  only  one  foot  in 
the  water  ;  and  if  the  old  tempter,  in  seducing  our  grand 
mother  Eve,  had  but  given  to  her  posterity  his  own  ver- 
tebra3, 1  could  have  wound  myself  around  those  roots, 
and  passed  a  pleasant  night.  Sleep  some  I  did,  and 
though  the  huge  32-pounders,  not  fifty  feet  distant, 
sounded  the  alarm  every  fifteen  minutes,  I  heard  but  two 
or  three  of  them.  About  daybreak,  you  could  see  the 
moist,  dirty  soldiers  rising  up,  and  with  some  grumbling, 
labor  to  get  the  kinks  out  of  their  aching  bodies.  The 
light  thickened,  and  the  coffee  came,  and  soon  cheerful 
ness  reigned  again.  Since  then,  we  put  down  our  rubber- 
blankets  (life-preservers,  they  may  well  be  called)  on  the  in 
side  margin  of  the  pits  ;  and  though  conscious  that  a 
shower  of  bullets  or  of  grape  would  acquaint  some  of 
us  with  that  sleep  that  knows  no  waking,  we  rest  in  all 
the  luxury  of  expansion.  "  Head-quarters"  used  to  mean 
a  fine  tent  and  a  pacing  sentinel.  Now,  it  brings  up 
before  the  mind  an  elevated  bed  of  rails  (a  long  bed  it 
is,  for  the  "tall  major"  is  the  presiding  genius),  thinly 
covered  with  some  rubbish,  and  an  awning  of  two  pieces 
of  a  shelter-tent.  There  the  major  and  adjutant  enjoy 
their  otium  cum  dignitate,  with  the  help  of  the  rebel 
weed,  which  they  burn  so  assiduously  as  to  lead  us  to 
imagine  that  their  earnest  Union  hearts  yearned  to  de- 


280  LIFE    WITH   THE   FORTY-XINTH 

stroy  one  of  the  great  staples  of  the  South,  almost  forget 
ting  that  it  costs  somewhere  in  the  neighborhood  of 
tw>  dollars  per  pound.  Living  in  such  a  conspicuous 
place,  I  should  not  be  surprised  to  hear  that  their  home 
had  been  entered  by  seeesh  bullets,  and  w,  as  a  regimcnti 
•igned  to  the  tender  mercies  of  Senior  Captain  Weller. 
I  do  not  disparage  that  officer,  for  a  braver,  and  better, 
and  kinder,  we  have  not,  nor  one  that  could  handle  the 
regiment  so  well ;  but  as  the  major  is  in  command,  and 
doing  finely,  I  want  him  to  have  the  honor  of  leading  us 
to  a  glorious  termination  of  this  campaign,  and  a  success 
ful  raid  on  Berkshire.  Bartlett  used  to  endure  torture 
wearing  that  cork  leg  day  after  day  (he  put  it  on  much 
too  soon),  torture  which  an  iron  man  only  would  endure. 
I  know  not  how  he  would  get  along  here,  and  the  reserve 
we  always  felt  in  his  presence  might  become  oppressive, 
as  we  would  necessarily  be  in  that  presence  all  the  time. 
I  never  saw  him  meet  an  occasion  without  adapting  him 
self  to  it,  and  I  fancy  we  would  like  him  as  well  in  the 
pits  as  in  camp  or  battle,  though,  I  presume,  there  would 
be  fewer  loungers  about  head-quarters.  The  major  shows 
good  sense  in  maintaining  the  dignity  of  his  office  without 
trying  to  imitate  that  of  the  colonel.  David  in  Saul's  ar 
mor  never  pleased  himself  or  others. 

Sutlers  have  followed  us  to  the  front,  and  at  fabulous 
prices  supply  us  with  tobacco,  ginger-bread,  cheese,  and 
other  articles  considered  superfluous  by  our  providers. 
They  are  well  patronized.  This  is  neither  time  nor  place 
for  economy.  We  are  often  regaled  with  fresh  beef,  of 
the  quantity  of  which  I  can  speak  more  favorably  than  of 
the  quality.  You  can  judge  somewhat  of  the  pleasure  of 
living  in  this  climate :  a  few  days  since,  a  squad  killed 
some  cattle,  and  in  less  than  two  hours  the  meat  was  so 
ily-blown  that  we  could  not  use  it.  For  the  lirst  time  in 
our  history,  we  have  had  wormy  bread.  Knocking  worms 
out  before  eating,  enlarges  our  experience  more  than  our 
comfort. 


MASSACHUSETTS  VOLUNTEERS.  281 

Some  of  our  nights  have  been  grand.  I  know  nothing 
more  fascinating  than  lying  in  these  grand  woods  in  the 
moonlight.  It  makes  one  shudder  to  think  of  a  future  of 
roofed  chambers  :  and  it  will  be  some  time  before  we  can 
be  reconciled  to  the  effeminacy  of  feather-beds.  Our  ex 
perience  will  enable  us  to  dispense  home  hospitality  on  a 
larger  scale,  by  giving  to  the  guest  (if  sexes  agree)  our 
unnecessary  bed,  and  retiring  to  what  we  would  now 
consider  luxurious  accommodations,  a  pillow  on  a  carpeted 
floor.  We  are  generally  rocked  to  sleep  by  the  music  of 
artillery,  and  the  other  night  heaven  and  earth  joined  in 
the  concert  of  awful  sounds.  The  long  peals  of  thunder 
mingled  with  the  roar  of  cannon,  and  the  flashing  of  ar 
tillery  blended  with  the  dull,  continuous  lightning.  Often 
we  could  not  tell  Avhich  was  the  voice  of  God  and  which 
the  voice  of  man.  At  times,  we  would  hear  the  report 
of  one  of  the  mammoth  guns  of  the  fleet ;  then  the  heavy, 
rumbling  thunder  would  unite  with  that  noise,  and  again 
the  roar  of  cannon,  followed  quickly  by  another  peal  from 
on  high,  would  keep  up  an  unbroken  but  awful  harmony. 
Occasionally,  the  lightning  would  flash  vividly  as  at  home, 
and  the  thunder  gather  into  a  fearful  crash,  revealing  the 
pettiness  of  man,  as  if  from  heaven  were  sounded, 
"  Power  belongeth  unto  God."  It  was  a  time  of  solem 
nity,  of  awe.  The  shells  shrieked  and  burst,  and  the 
great  mortars  moaned  and  groaned  as  if  the  soul  of  Free 
dom  was  travailing  in  agonizing  desire  to  reach  the  heart 
of  Slavery.  All  night  long  the  mingled  storm  continued, 
waxing  yet  more  fearful,  till  morning,  ushering  in  the 
light  and  quietness,  was  a  grateful  relief.  'Tis  worth  a 
few  months'  separation  from  home,  to  enjoy  some  of  our 
experiences. 

Our  straw  hats  were  found  to  be  too  conspicuous 
marks,  so  we  have  had  to  return  to  caps,  which  leave  the 
back  of  the  head  all  exposed  to  the  rays  of  the  sun.  Re 
cently,  a  major  was  shot  by  our  own  pickets.  He  passed 
out  the  line  at  one  place,  and  was  about  returning  through 


282  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

at  another  place,  without  halting  to  give  the  countersign, 
perchance  thinking  it  was  the  beat  he  had  passed  through 
iirst,  when  a  sentinel  killed  him.  In  one  of  my  wood 
rambles,  I  got  lost,  and  the  remembrance  of  that  incident 
made  me  more  fearful  of  friends  than  I  have  ever  been 
of  foes.  "  Shot  by  mistake"  is  a  poor  epitaph  for  a  sol 
dier's  tomb. 

The  enemy  lose  nearly  fifty  per  day  by  desertion. 
Eighteen  stationed  at  an  outpost,  killed  their  officer  and 
esc.iped  to  our  lines.  Some  found  their  way  to  the  works 
manned  by  the  negroes;  and  though  the  rebel  brutality 
of  the  27th  was  still  fresh  in  their  minds,  were  treated 
by  them  with  great  kindness.  We  greet  these  deserters. 
They  may  be  scaly  patriots,  but  each  counts  one  less 
rifle  to  march  up  against. 

I  give  you  a  little  incident  to  illustrate  the  honor  of 
the  position  of  color-sergeant,  and  the  pride  we  take  in 
our  colors.  Major  Burt,  of  the  One  Hundred  and  Fifty- 
ninth  New  York,  led  four  hundred  men  in  a  desperate 
charge,  but  met  a  cross-fire  so  fearful,  that  almost  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye,  one  hundred  were  laid  low,  and  the 
i\'.-\  had  to  fall  back.  The  color-bearer  had  planted  the 

:  on  the  ramparts  before  he  was  slain,  so  it  was  left 
behind.  A  corporal  dashed  forward,  seized  the  sacred 
emblem,  and  was  bearing  it  away,  when  a  bullet  through 
his  heart  stopped  his  career.  The  major  himself  then 
we-it  for  it  and  came  oil'  with  it  in  safety,  leaving  a  part 
of  the  staff  sticking  in  the  ground,  where  the  brave  bearer 
had  placed  it.  You  must  be  a  soldier  before  you  can 
really  sing  "  Rally  round  the  flag !  boys."  Oh !  'tis 
grand  thus  to  rally,  and  at  the  same  time  "  Ring  out  the 
battle-cry  of  Freedom." 

This  has  been  an  eventful  week  tons.  Another  assault 
was  decided  on.  It  is  again  said,  Banks  adopts  this  plan 
iigainst  the  advice  of  all  his  generals.  He  looks  like  a 
man  of  much  self-reliance.  Such  men  may,  by  trusting 
to  their  own  judgments,  commit  mistakes,  but  they 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  283 

generally  get  through.  Through  we  must  get,  and  that 
soon,  for  rebel  attacks  in  our  rear  are  becoming  annoy- 
ingly  frequent,  and  increasingly  alarming.  A  fe\v  days 
since  they  captured  over  fifty  of  our  teams.  They  waited 
till  we  had  substituted  nice  army- wagons  for  our  lumber 
ing  plantation  carts.  Almost  under  General  Grover's 
nose,  they  seized  an  ambulance  with  its  load  of  sick. 
The  fact  that  the  time  of  service  of  several  of  the  regi 
ments  has  almost  expired,  suggests  haste.  Persuasion 
and  threat  inay  keep  them  in  the  ranks  after  that  time, 
but  their  efficiency  will  be  materially  lessened.  Last 
Monday,  lots  were  drawn  for  fascine-bearers.  That  time 
the  fascines  were  cotton-bags  about  three  feet  long,  which 
could  be  carried  as  shields.  No  chance  was  'offered  for 
volunteering.  Captain  Chaffee  was  appointed  to  lead 
them.  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  accompany  them.  A- 
bridge-party  was  also  formed,  whose  duty  it  is  to  bridge 
a  way  over  the  ditch  for  the  artillery ;  then  the  pioneers, 
under  Captain  Garlick,  are  to  dig  down  the  parapet,  that 
we  may  run  our  guns  inside.  Inside!  what  that  means, 
we  know  not.  Once  inside,  and  we  may  find  stronger 
works  and  graves.  "Do  or  die"  seems  to  be  Banks's 
motto.  Daily  the  bridge-party  practise  forming  and 
laying  down  the  bridge,  all  the  timbers  being  nicely  ad 
justed  together;  and  daily  also  Garlick  drills  his  pioneers. 
I  suppose  hundreds  of  skirmishers  will  be  sent  out  to 
keep  the  walls  clear  while  these  forlorn  hopes  do  their 
work.  That  will  lessen  their  danger,  but  they  have  an 
appalling  task  before  them.  Though  they  did  not  volun 
teer,  and  doubtlessly  hope  that  this  cup,  ay,  this  cup  of 
trembling,  may  pass_from  them,  yet  there  are  no  signs  of 
flinching.  God  bless  the  dear  fellows  !  I  never  knew 
my  courage  fail  me  when  the  hour  came,  but  welcome  a 
dozen  assaults  rather  than  those  fearful  days  of  waiting 
and  suspense.  Some  one  has  said — 

"  The  brave  man  dies  but  once  : 
The  coward  dies  a  thousand  deaths  in  fearing  one." 


284  LIFE    WITH   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

<  '•  <>d  poetry,  only  it  is  lacking  in  truth.  The  brave  man 
is  he  who  trill  do  his  duty,  though  before  and  in  doing 
it  he  may  suffer  the  mental  pangs  of  a  thousand  deaths. 
I  wish  Berkshire,  knowing  the  work  before  them,  could 
see  these  men,  her  sons  ;  and  if  pride  and  tears  did  not 
mingle  together,  she  would  be  unworthy  of  them.  I 
often  visit  them,  and  as  I  notice  their  quiet  manner,  their 
calm  blue  eyes,  their  undaunted  deportment,  I  am  glad  I 
belong  to  the  same  regiment.  Whether  by  accident,  or 
thinking  them  inconsistent  with  the  solemnities  of  battle- 
life,  cards  have  been  left  behind,  but  few  failed  to  bring 
their  pocket-Testaments  ;  and  I  frequently  saw  some  01 
them  reading  the  inspiring  truths,  and  knew  they  were 
gathering  "more  than  earthly  courage  for  a  heavenly 
duty.  I  take  back  my  wish  that  Berkshire  could  see 
these  men.  Ere  this,  there  is  enough  soul-wearing 
anxiety  there.  Hearts  are  sorrowing  for  their  distant 
dead,  or  suffering  with  their  unwatched  wounded,  or 
asking  for  news  of  their  perilled  living  ones,  trying  to 
hope  for  the  best,  yet  fearing  the  worst,  and  we  mourn 
with  the  bereaved  and  sympathize  with  the  anxiety  of 
those  who  are  as  yet  only  affected  in  imagination.  Weary 
weeks  will  roll  away  before  we  leave  the  presence  of 
danger,  and  yet  more  weeks  before  homes  are  gladdened 
with  the  assurance  of  the  safety  of  our  remnant.  Know 
ing  this,  I  cannot  wish  that  the  mothers  and  wives  of 
these  men  should  daily  pass  them  as  they  wait  the  dread 
moment ;  but  I  would  like  the  many,  who  could  not 
afford  to  serve  their  country,  to  see  what  their  privileges 
cost. 

Last  Thursday  night,  earth-works  were  to  be  thrown 
up  and  rifle-pits  dug,  that  Holcomb's  battery  could  be 
located  within  forty  rods  of  the  foe.  A  large  detail  from 
our  regiment  was  to  do  the  work.  Roll  cotton-bales  over 
ground  almost  covered  with  felled  trees  and  limbs,  in  the 
face  of  a  foe,  and  you  may  be  excused  if  you  often  think 
and  tremble  at  the  probable  consequences  of  a  few  dis- 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  285 

charges  of  grape,  canister,  railroad  iron,  screw-heads, 
nails,  and  such  other  articles  as  the  rebels  draw  from 
their  armory  of  death.  Those  bales  were  to  be  our  only 
protection.  Thinking  that  any  help  might  not  be  unac 
ceptable,  I  went  down  to  the  rifle-pit  to  join  the  detail. 
We  waited  the  order  to  move,  the  night  was  very  dark 
and  gloomy,  and  we  were  far  from  jubilant.  One  fine 
soldier,  an  Irishman,  gave  vent  to  his  apprehensions  by 
damning  the  niggers,  and  denouncing  the  whole  contest 
as  a  "  nigger  war."  The  words  had  scarcely  left  his  lips 
when  Captain  Chaffee  came  to  tell  us  we  were  excused 
from  the  duty,  Colonel  Hodges's  (negro)  engineers  having 
volunteered  for  the  task.  Well,  there  was  no  more 
"  damning  the  niggers"  that  night,  and  I  guess  that  good 
Irishman  was  instantaneously  converted  to  abolitionism. 
From  more  than  one  heart  came  the  fervent  "  God  bless 
the  negroes !"  and  the  resolve  to  nobly  fight  that  every 
one  of  the  race  may  look  upon  our  flag  as  the  emblem 
of  their  freedom.  The  night  passed  on ;  we,  so  much 
farther  from  those  engineers  than  the  rebels,  could  hear 
their  voices  and  the  noise  of  their  spades,  sftid  momentarily 
expected  the  sound  that  would  tell  that  for  us  they  had 
worked  and  died.  But  not  a  shot  broke  the  stillness. 

In  the  darkness  of  the  following  evening  we  started  to 
occupy  the  works  they  had  erected.  We  were  told  to 
maintain  the  strictest  silence,  so  we  walked  as  if  on  eggs, 
and  with  suppressed  breath.  Nothing  will  make  a  man 
feel  quite  so  timid  as  to  be  among  hundreds  marching  in 
the  dark  up  to  loaded  guns,  treading  as  softly  as  if  you 
know  you  are  doing  wrong,  and  whispering  out  your  ap 
prehensions  to  your  comrade.  I  was  placed  in  the  rear 
rank,  and  was  glad  of  it,  and  half  scanned  the  size  of  the 
man  before  me  to  be  assured  that  I  was  safe  till  he  fell ; 
and  then,  then  we  quickened  our  pace  and  began  to  speak 
a  little  louder,  and  the  tremor  was  over.  'Tis  said  a  rapid 
walk,  on  a  frosty  morning,  will  clear  up  the  evidence  of 
a  doubting  Christian  ;  I  know  it  will  bring  out  the  courage 


2S6  LIFE  wrm  THE  FORTT-XI 

of  the  wavering  soldier.  We  reached  some  cotton-bags, 
and  then  rested  till  the  Major  led  us  to  onr  places, 
t\vo  companies  at  a  time.  So  near  the  foe,  we  lingered 
our  pits  pretty  closely  that  night,  but  again  the  rebels 
gave  no  signs  of  life.  This  was  the  first  really  forward 
move  we  had  made  since  the  command  of  the  regiment 
devolved  on  the  Major,  and  he  was  determined  we  should 
not  be  surprised  and  his  own  name  sullied ;  so  he  spent 
the  night  in  the  road,  considerably  in  advance  of  our  line 
of  earthworks.  I  laid  me  down  to  sleep  behind  a  stump, 
and  woke  up  to  find  that  my  bed-fellow  was  a  stalwart 
darkey.  Prejudices  arc  often  stronger  than  principles, 
and  though  I  was  willing  to./?////?,  that  under  our  flag  all 
(negroes  included)  should  enjoy  the  rights  of  humanity, 
I  had  hardly  advanced  far  enough  towards  miscegenation, 
to  sleep  with  u  God's  image  carved  in  ebony."  Involun 
tarily,  I  gave  my  blanket  an  extra  shake  that  morning. 
He  was  white  when  I  laid  down  there;  of  that  I  am  quite 
sure;  the  origin  of  the  first  negro  is  only  less  of  a  puzzle 
than  how  my  sleeping  with  him  converted  him  into  an 
unmistakable  darkey. 

Not  caring  to  spend  the  day  idly  basking  in  a  summer 
sun,  I  returned  to  the  camp  in  morning,  meeting  hundreds 
of  negroes  carrying  shells  and  kegs  of  powder  in  full  view 
of  the  enemy,  who  seemed  to  care  no  more  fort-hem  and 
their  hostile  preparations  than  an  elephant  for  a  fly.  The 
cooks  and  musicians  were  bringing  out  our  food.  Carry 
ing  the  blessings  of  this  life,  over  an  almost  open  field,  to 
within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  thousands  of  angry 
weapons,  is  acting  the  Good  Samaritan  to  some  purpose, 
and  is  not  a  bad  school  for  volunteers  of  future  forlorn 
hopes. 

About  eleven  A.  M.,  of  the  13th  inst.,  nearly  all  our  bat 
teries  opened  on  the  enemy,  and  for  an  hour  there  was  an 
almost  uninterrupted  roar  of  artillery,  as  we  gave  rebel 
doin  a  specimen  of  every  kind  of  death-dealing  missile. 
Then  General  Banks  sent  in  a  flag  of  truce,  demanding 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  287 

the  surrender  of  the  place,  which  looked  to  us  like  boys' 
play.  Every  shot  is  a  summons  to  surrender,  and  \itJ\ey 
do  not  bring  out  the  white  flag,  certainly  a  verbal  demand 
will  not.  Perchance,  the  bombardment  and  flag  of  truce 
were  merely  intended  to  give  deserters  a  chance  to 
escape,  for  soon  after  several  hundreds  came  into  our 
lines.  General  Gardner  said  duty  required  him  to  defend 
the  place.  Though  the  morrow  was  the  Sabbath  day, 
we  knew  that  truth  would  then  be  preached  with  cannon 
and  impressed  with  bayonets,  and  attended  with  s-uch 
sacrificial  blood  as  will  ^bring  the  Mount  of  Ascension 
nearer  to  Calvary.  The  afternoon  was  occupied  with  pre 
paring  for  the  assault.  Night  came,  making  no  alteration 
in  the  affairs  of  our  regiment ;  so  we  concluded  that  the 
troops  of  the  centre  were  to  be  idle  spectators  of  the  en 
gagement,  or  kept  back  as  reserves ;  but  about  midnight 
we  were  called  into  line,  and  knew  that  our  Sabbath 
meant  blood,  and  wounds,  and  death.  After  breakfast, 
the  surgeon  sent  a  ration  of  whiskey,  but  he  had  been 
anticipated.  I  reached  the  regiment  about~one  A.  M.,  and 
found  a  man  urging  the  boys  to  fill  their  canteens  with 
liquor,  they  having  drunk  what  they  thought  necessary. 
I  knew  that  on  comparatively  empty  stomachs  much 
whiskey  would  produce  drunkenness,  so  I  told  him  the 
men  had  enough  and  he  had  better  leave.  Perchance,  he 
thought  I  was  an  officer,  for  he  left,  but  soon  returned, 
saying  the  surgeon  had  sent  him  back  to  get  rid  of  the 
rest  of  his  stock.  Most  of  our  boys  refused  to  take  any 
more,  and  I  did  not  hear  of  half  a  dozen  who  were  in  any 
wise  intoxicated.  The  Second  Louisiana  were  nearly  all 
drunk.  We  found  that  out  afterwards  to  our  sorrow. 

In  excellent  order  the  Major  placed  us  very  much  nearer 
the  fort  than  we  had  ever  been  before.  Some  companies 
had  no  protection  save  a  few  bushes.  The  rebels  were  so 
quiet,  so  seemingly  unconscious  of  our  presence,  that  then 
we  could  have  laid  the  bridge,  crossed  the  ditch,  and  in 
comparative  safety  the  pioneers  might  have  made  a 


288  LIFE   WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

breach  in  the  parapet,  I  say  in  "  comparative  safety," 
for  earthworks  are  so  built  that  an  enfilading  fire  will 
sweep  the  ditches,  as  some  men  found  to  their  cost,  four 
teen  having  gotten  in  in  one  place,  of  whom  only  three 
came  out  alive.  I  located  myself  behind  a  stump,  with 
others,  but  the  ^lajor  thought  it  was  not  far  enough  front, 
so  we  made  an  advance,  glad  to  do  so,  for  that  stump  was 
in  exact  range  of  our  thirty-two  pounders,  which  went 
less  than  three  feet  over  our  heads.  Considering  that 
shells  often  fall  short  or  burst  before  their  time,  some 
other  locality  was  preferable.  With  the  .Major  and  some 
of  Company  II,  I  rested  behind  a  felled  tree.  It  was  a 
mammoth  one,  but  unfortunately,  it  had  a  mammoth  bend 
in  it,  and  the  rebels  had  so  laid  it  that  the  bend  gracefully 
curved  upwards,  leaving  the  lower  parts  of  our  body  about 
as  well  protected  as  if  we  had  sought  shelter  behind  a 
ladder.  An  unexploded  shell,  weighing  over  a  hundred 
pounds,  had  ceased  its  labors  right  under  this  bend. 
With  it  and  some  brush,  we  closed  up  the  aperture,  so 
that,  we  were  impervious  to  the  eyes  but  not  to  the  bullets 
of  the  foe.  A  signal-rocket  went  up  from  the  right,  the 
Major  discharged  his  pistol,  and  then  we  all  began  to  fire 
as  rapidly  as  possible.  It  was  too  dark  to  see  the  para 
pet,  but  understanding  that  our  move  was  only  a  feint, 
to  confuse  the  enemy  while  the  real  attack  was  being 
made  right  and  left,  we  scattered  our  cartridges  with  a 
p» /rl'ert  looseness.  This  was  about  three  o*elcok  in  the 
morning,  and  we  kept  up  quite  a  continuous  fire  for  four 
or  five  hours.  Some  ten  minutes  elapsed  before  we  were 
answered,  and  then  in  a  manner  that  convinced  us  that 
they  knew  -ire  were  only  feigning.  Bullets  rattled  round 
us  in  sufficient  numbers  and  with  such  accuracy  as  to  send 
poor  Parker  (C)  to  his  long  home,  to  wound  others,  and 
to  disagreeably  bring  up  the  contrast  between  that  and 
the  quietness  of  a  Xew  England  Sabbath.  As  we  lay  there, 
we  learned  that  no  exciting  work  was  before  its ;  but  rapid 
musketry  and  wild  cheering  on  the  riijit  told  us  that 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  289 

there  the  valor  of  the  27th  was  being  repeated.  Alas  ! 
again  in  vain.  Were  it  not  for  the  occasional  bullets  that 
ibund  their  way  under  our  tree,  we  would  have  felt  quite 
safe,  had  we  not  been  alarmed  by  a  fire  from  our  rear. 
We  had  been  at  work  several  hours,  when,  with  a  cry  of 
"Forward!"  some  of  the  Second  Louisiana  came  up, 
leaving  the  great  majority  of  their  drunken  comrades 
fifteen  or  twenty  rods  behind.  As  their  bullets  would 
come  unpleasantly  near,  we  would  raise  the  shout,  "  Fire 
higher!"  and  that  shout  was  carried  all  along  the  front. 
The  miserable  fellows  thought,  in  their  drunken  valor, 
that  they  were  the  nearest  regiment  to  the  foe,  or  caring- 
little  and  seeing  no  chance  to  hit  rebels,  concluded  to  do 
some  kind  of  execution.  Who  gave  them  liquor  so  freely 
is  answerable  for  the  killing  and  wounding  of  many  loyal 
soldiers.  So  imminent  was  the  danger  from  their  guns, 
that  it  became  a  questionable  matter  which,  was  the  safer 
side  of  the  logs. 

A  shell,  we  thought  from  one  of  our  gunboats,  bursted 
over  our  heads.  There  was  a  sudden  bringing  of 
limbs  into  the  smallest  compass  possible.  The  second, 
elapsing  between  the  bursting  of  a  shell  and  the  falling 
of  its  fragments,  with  the  mental  inquiry,  "  Who  will  be 
hit  ?  will  Ifn  is  far  from  pleasurable.  The  emotions  of 
the  battle-field  are  peculiar  and  varying.  Seeing  that 
young  Thompson  (H),  who  had  gone  gallantly  through 
the  scenes  of  the  27th,  did  not  fire  for  some  time  after 
the  order,  I  asked  him  the  reason.  He  said,  "  Oh !  I  am 
too  frightened."  I  advised  him  to  pitch  in,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  he  was  as  free  from  fear  as  any  of  us.  To  his 
left  was  N".  Taylor  (II),  one  of  our  best  and  bravest ;  yet, 
every  time  a  shot  passed  by  him,  he  would  start  and 
shrink,  whether  it  came  from  friend  or  foe.  We  tried  to 
reform  him,  but  it  was  no  use,  his  nerves  were  more 
powerful  than  his  will ;  yet  he  kept  steadily  to  work. 
He  may  have  started  just  so  in  the  fierce  battle  of  last 
month,  but  the  Christian  determination  to  do  his  duty 
13 


290  LIFE    WITH    THE 

bore  him  onward  despite  shrinking  nerves.  Such  men 
are  tne  really  brave.  While  lying  there,  a  white  rabbit 
sought  shelter  under  our  tree,  and  gazed  at  us  with  his 
brown  eyes  in  the  most  beseeching  manner. 

I  have  no  incident8  of  peculiar  heroism  to  record.  We 
did  what  we  were  ordered  to  do,  nothing  more,  nothing 
less.  Bach,  our  color-sergeant,  in  carrying  messages  to 
different  parts  of  the  field,  and  some  who  brought  car 
tridge-boxes  to  us,  had  better  opportunities  of  showing 
their  disregard  for  danger  than  any  others,  and  they  did 
so.  Let  me  assure  you  that  roaming  over  such  a  field,  at 
such  a  time,  is  not  the  pleasantest  work  you  can  imagine. 
You  run  from  stump  to  stump,  followed  by  bullets,  not 
knowing  when  you  will  be  hit ;  or  you  go  through  brush 
that  balls  regard  no  more  than  paper.  We  started  with 
eighty  rounds  of  cartridges  to  each  man,  and  some  con 
sumed,  irasted,  I  might  say,  over  a  hundred.  Having 
fired  twenty  times,  I  became  economical  and  rested. 
While  using  that  number,  my  gun  got  so  foul  that  I  had 
to  stop  and  clean  it.  Lying  there,  we  became  connois 
seurs  of  bullets.  A  partially- spent  ball  passes  by  you 
with  a  sound  like  the  buzzing  of  a  mad  bee,  while  one  in 
full  speed  says,  "Zip!"  Some  of  our  shells  would  strike 
the  parapet,  and  exploding,  send  fragments  back  to 
wound  us.  If  a  shell  bursts  after  it  stops,  it  scatters  the 
iron  hail  all  around  ;  but  if,  in  consequence  of  the  fuse 
being  too  short,  it  bursts  right  over  your  head  soon  after 
leaving  the  gun,  you  will  be  unscathed,  for  the  momen 
tum  of  the  ball,  inhering  to  all  its  particles,  will  carry  the 
fragments  far  ahead  of  you.  Grape  and  canister  are  the 
most  deadly  of  all  the  munitions  of  war.  They  are  fired 
from  guns  of  almost  every  calibre.  Grape-shot,  varying 
in  size  from  two  ounces  to  two  pounds  each,  are  put  up, 
about  a  dozen  together,  in  an  iron  wire,  which,  bursting  by 
the  force  of  the  powder,  scatters  them  in  every  direction. 
Canister  shot  is  made  of  tin  canisters,  holding  from  a 
pint  to  half  a  peck,  filled  with  bullets.  When  the  gun 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  291 

is  fired,  these  canisters  burst,  sending  their  contents 
about  like  a  fiery  spray. 

The  most  unpleasant  part  of  the  14th  of  June  was  the 
fierce  heat.  It  was  one  of  our  sultriest  days,  a  day,  too, 
without  a  cloud.  By  7  A.  M.,  the  sun  scorched  us,  and  we 
had  to  shade  the  barrel  of  our  guns  to  keep  them  from 
becoming  too  hot  to  handle.  There  we  lay,  right  gn  the 
ground,  wbere  we  could  not  get  a  breath  of  air,  the  sun, 
all  the  time,  drawing  the  blood  to  our  brains.  I  thought 
I  would  go  crazy.  With  my  gun  and  ramrod  and  blouse, 
I  made  an  awning  which  added  to  our  comfort ;  but  the 
rebel  riflemen  in  the  trees  seeing  us,  and  perchance  think 
ing  it  was  designed  for  the  benefit  of  some  officer,  paid 
us  so  many  leaden  compliments,  that  I  had  to  pull  it 
down.-  I  bore  it  till  about  noon,  and  could  bear  it  no 
longer ;  so,  thinking  "  a  living  dog  is  better  than  a  dead 
lion,"  I  started  for  the  shade.  The  firing  had  greatly 
ceased,  being  devoted  only  to  those  who  exposed  them 
selves.  I  ran  in  a  zigzag  course,  to  divert  the  aim  of  those 
friends  who  were  forcibly  urging  me  to  stay  on  the  field, 
to  the  nearest  tree  or  stump,  and  then  down  I  would  fall. 
I  suppose  my  erratic  movements  attracted  some  attention, 
for  as  I  dropped  behind  one  stump,  a  ball  entered  on  the 
ground  on  either  side  of  me.  I  got  so  weak  in  getting 
up  and  down,  that  my  strength  was  failing  me,  so  I  bid 
farewell  to  all  dodging  and  stumps,  and  struck  a  bee-line 
for  the  woods,  almost  careless  whether  I  was  hit  or  not. 
I  reached  the  edge  of  the  woods  and  threw  myself  down 
and  slept,  how  long  I  know  not,  but  when  I  woke,  as 
fresh  as  a  lark,  the  sun  was  away  in  the  west,  broiling 
down  on  me.  About  a  week  before  the  fight,  and  in  an 
ticipation  thereof,  I  got  half  a  pint  of  poor  whiskey.  It 
was  on  hand  that  Sunday.  Before  starting  to  run  back, 
I  drank  it  all,  and  that,  I  believe,  saved  me  from  sun 
stroke. 

About  dark,  the  regiment  returned  to  their  rifle-pits, 
and  tired  men  were  sent  out  on  the  field  as  pickets.  It 


292  LIFE    WITH    THE    FOIITY-XIVTII 

was  a  day  of  fearful  slaughter,  poorly  recompensed  by 
tlic.'  few  rods  we  gained.  History  records  no  grander 
lighting  than  was  witne>s<.-d  on  our  right.  The  31st  Mas 
sachusetts  iilh'd  part  of  the  ditch  with  their  cotton- 
bags,  and  some  unstrapped  their  guns  from  their  backs, 
crossed,  and  mounted  the  parapets.  There  they  found 
two  lines  of  earth-works,  so  ranged  that  certain  death  was 
the  reward  of  that  valor  that  mounted  the  outer  walls. 
Three  small  companies  of  the  8th  Vermont  lost  fifty-eight 
men  by  one  volley;  338  were  cut  down  of  Weitzel's 
brigade.  It  is  thought  that  the  loss  of  the  right  wing  is 
nqj  less  than  1,500.  It  was  an  awful  day,  relieved  only 
by  the  grand  heroism  of  the  sons  of  New  York  and  New 
England.  Some  of  our  be-st  blood  has  saturated  this 
^l<ti/</ht<:Ss  field.  General  Paine  was  severely  wounded  and 
lay  all  the  day  exposed  to  the  fearful  fire.  J.  Y.  Woods, 
Company  E,  31st  Massachusetts,  got  a  bottle  of  cordial 
and  carried  it  to,  the  General,  but  unfortunately,  lie  did 
not  throw  it  near  enough  for  him  to  reach  it.  Getting 
some  lemons  and  water,  he  tried  to  return,  but  within 
five  feet  of  his  commander,  he  rolled  over  and  never 
moved  again.  John  Williams,  Company  D,  31st  Massa 
chusetts,  also  went  to  the  relief  with  lemons  and  water, 
but  never  returned.  A  4th  Wisoon>in  man  fell  in  an  ex 
posed  place,  and  a  sharpshooter  fired  at  him  once  or  twice 
afterwards,  when  a  Connecticut  boy  crawled  after  him, 
took  him  on  his  back,  and  carried  him  safely  to  a  place 
where  the  stretcher-bearers  could  reach  him.  War  is 
horrid,  but  not  altogether  in  vain  when  it  shows  to  us 
what  noble  qualities  lie  dormant  in  human  nature.  Rep 
resentatives  of  the  Christian  and  Sanitary  Commission 
are  here,  doing  all  that  men  can  do  for  the  souls  and 
bodies  of  the  suffering. 

I  hardly  think  our  surgeons  keep  near  enough  to  us. 
That  evening  we  went  to  support  Holcomb's  battery,  a 
poor  fellow  was  left  all  alone  in  the  delirium  of  fever, 
and  was  not  found  till  next  day.  He  had  been  kept  at 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLTJXTEEKS.  293 

work  too  long.  I  pity  the  surgeons.  Fallible  men,  they 
have  to  decide  who  are  really  sick,  and  who  are  shirking  ; 
and  they  make  mistakes,  and  receive  many  curses  not  their 
due.  Dr.  Winsor  is  not  as  popular  as  he  deserves  to  be. 
Many  of  his  own  dollars  has  he  expended  for  the  comfort 
of  the  sick,  but  his  apparent  coldness  of  nature  does  not 
allow  him  to  minister  that  sympathy  of  manner  which 
attracts  men's  hearts  more  than  gifts.  Were'  there  no 
shirkers,  he  would  be  more  popular.  His  earnest  love 
for  the  cause,  and  his  conscientious  desire  to  give  to  that 
cause  every  man  capable  of  advancing  it,  may  lead  him 
to  remand  to  duty  those  who  should  be  excused.  God 
have  mercy  on  them  who  thus  throw  their  burdens  on 
weak  and  failing  comrades !  They  may  carry  whole  car 
casses  back  to  Berkshire,  but  for  all  the  good  they  will 
ever  do,  they  might  just  as  well  rot  and  die  in  one  of 
these  ditches.  It  seems  to  me,  if  manhood  has  not  died 
out,,  the  sound  of  battle  would  bring  before  them  visions 
of  brothers  dying  whom  they  might  save,  that  would 
crowd  their  future  days  and  nights  with  unavailing  re 
morse. 

I  send  you  a  list  of  our  casualties  on  the  14th  inst., 
being  one  killed  and  seventeen  wounded  : 

Company  A — M.  F.  Dailey,  hand,  slightly ;  T.  Kair- 
don,  hand,  slightly. 

Company  B — E.  M.  Martin,  shoulder ;  I.  Nourse,  leg. 

Company  C— Killed :  T.  F.  Parker.  Wounded:  W. 
E.  Loomis,  hand,  slightly ;  J.  E.  Downs,  hand,  slightly. 

Company  D — H.  C.  Winters,  arm  and  chin ;  P.  Devan- 
ny,  shoulder. 

Company  E — W.  Amstead,  hand,  slightly  ;  A.  E.  Fer 
ry,  finger,  amputated. 

Company  F — J.  B.  Downs,  shoulder  and  chin,  slightly. 

Company  I — Lieutenant  W.  E.  Nichols,  ankle  ;  E. 
McDonald,  finger,  amputated ;  G.  L.  Geer,  hand,  slightly ; 
C.  E.  Wink,  hand,  slightly ;  H.  Vosburgh,  hip,  slightly. 

Company  K — D.  Funk,  head  and  shoulder. 


294  LIFE    WITH    THE    FOETY-NINTII 

Thcron  F.  Parker  (C),  aged  nineteen  years,  was  one 
of  our  nicest  farmer  boys  from  Lenox,  and  an  excellent, 
quiet,  reliable  soldier.  lie  was  shot  in  the  head,  while 
in  the  act  of  firing,  and  must  have  died  immediately.  lie 
remained  in  that  kneeling  position  some  time  after  his 
death.  His  company  was  so  far  advanced,  that  they  had 
no  shelter  but  bushes.  A  good  boy ;  we  miss  him :  a 
brave  boy;  his  loss  is  a  nation's  loss,  and  his  country's 
glory  gilds  his  lonely  grave. 

N»rm>m  JfoHenltPck  (E),  aged  twenty-one  years,  died 
at  Baton  Rouge,  June  12th.  He  was  a  young  farmer 
from  Egremont.  A  good  soldier,  in  young  manhood,  has 
gone  to  his  grave ;  and  far  oft*,  in  Massachusetts,  a  wid 
ows!  mother  yearns  for  the  boy  she  is  no  more  to  see. 

Chrixtn] >/,,,<  tthn((des  (E)  also  died  June  12th,  in  the 
hospital  at  Baton  Rouge.  lie  was  a  Ne \\--Marlboro  far 
mer  and  a  nice  man,  but  had  not  strength  to  endure  the 
exposure  of  a  soldier's  life.  Consumption  ended  his  life 
in  his  twenty-sixth  year.  Of  many,  I  have  but  little  to 
say ;  for  young  men,  if  quiet  and  moral,  go  through  life, 
.attracting  but  little  attention.  You  know  they  quietly 
did  life's  duties,  and  that  is  all.  Their  many  private  ex 
cellencies  are  known  mainly  to  loved  ones,  who  mourn 
them  proudly.  Of  our  comrade,  all  I  know  is,  he  was 
much  esteemed,  and  closed  a  steady  life  on  the  battle 
field  of  the  hospital,  and  that  he  is  mourned  for,  not  only 
by  his  brother,  who  is  with  us,  but  also  by  the  members 
of  his  company. 

David  8.  ./>//.<*  (K)  was  a  farmer  from  Florida,  aged 
twenty-four  years.  He  was  wounded  in  the  battle  of  the 
27th,  and  taken  to  Baton  Rouge,  where  he  died  on  tho 
13th  inst.  He  was  a  steady,  quiet,  kind  man,  and  where 
courage  was  needed,  proved  himself  a  reliable  soldier. 
He  leaves  a  family  to  mourn  for  him  while  they  remem 
ber  the  glory  and  the  grief  of  a  day  that  brought  dark 
ness  to  so  many  Xe\v  Kn-rland  homes. 

Lieutenant  Isaac  Eugene  Judd  is  dead.     The  sad  news 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  295 

reached  us  on  Saturday  night,  illy  fitting  us  for  the  stern 
duties  of  the  morrow.  Sadness  settled  on  every  heart, 
for  we  loved  and  were  proud  of  him.  I  have  seen  no 
profounder  sorrow  than  was  caused  among  us  by  the  mel 
ancholy  intelligence.  In  the  charge  of  the  27th,  he  was 
wounded  in  the  groin,  in  front,  just  at  the  joint  of  the 
thigh.  The  doctor  said  that  the  bullet  narrowly  missed 
the  femoral  artery,  and  that  had  it  gone  an  inch  to  one 
side  of  it  to  where  it  did,  he  would  have  bled  to  death 
instantly.  We  all  thought  at  that  time,  with  him,  that 
the  wound  was  not  serious ;  and  on  being  brought  from 
the  field,  he  answered,  when  asked  if  he  was  badly  hurt, 
"  Not  so  badly  but  that  I  shall  get  another  lick  at  them 
yet."  His  true  soldier-nature  thought  more  about  win 
ning  the  victory  than  about  himself.  The  wound  was  in 
the  nature  of  a  slit,  causing  the  surgeon  to  think  the  bail 
might  have  NdroppeH  out.  If  it  remained  in  his  body,  it 
would  not  hurt  him  for  a  while,  perchance  never  ;  and  as 
the  wound  was  so  near  the  main  artery,  probing  was  not 
deemed  advisable.  Two  days  after  the  battle,  he  was 
removed  to  the  hospital  at  Baton  Rouge,  and  there,  with 
other  officers,  received  the  most  excellent  care  and  atten 
tion.  The  doctors  and  nurses  took  a  special  interest  in 
his  welfare,  as  if  conscious  his  was  no  ordinary  life.  Some 
tme  of  Co.  K  was  nearly  always  in  attendance  on  him ; 
so  in  hope  and  cheerfulness,  he  passed  the  days  till,  on 
the  10th  of  June,  the  wound  started  to  bleed,  and  he  had 
spasms  of  pain  at  intervals  of  about  five  minutes.  The 
doctor  would  stop  the  bleeding  for  the  time  being,  but  he 
grew  no  better,  and  it  became  evident  the  artery  was 
ruptured  by  the  process  of  suppuration  of  the  wound. 
At  last,  he  told  the  surgeon  he  wanted  the  wound  exam 
ined  and  something  done,  as  matters  could  not  be  worse, 
and  might  be  bettered;  besides,  the  spasms  of  pain  were 
becoming  very  agonizing.  On  the  12th  inst.,  the  medi 
cal  director  of  this  department,  an  eminently  skilful  sur 
geon,  extracted  the  ball  and  tied  up  the  artery,  the  lieu- 


29G  LIFE  wnn  THE  FORTY-XIXTH 

tenant  being  under  the  influence  of  chloroform  and  ether. 
It  was  the  only  chance  of  saving  hi*  life,  and  a  doubtful 
one  at  best.  He  may  have  realized  his  condition,  but 
;  nothing  about  it.  As  late  as  one  o'clock,  lie  was 
quiet,  and  his  voice  clear  and  strong,  but  towards  night 
the  fatal  hour  came.  As  was  feared,  the  artery  burst. 
The  doctor  delayed  the  approach  of  death,  by  keeping 
his  thumb  pressed  on  the  artery;  but  very  soonhe  breathed 
his  last,  calmly  and  peacefully.  His  brother-officers,  to 
whom  he  was  endeared  by  the  associations  of  private 
life,  of  the  camp,  of  the  battle-field,  and  of  the  hospital, 
gathered  round  his  death-bed.  With  brave  men,  he  had 
bravely  fought ;  it  was  fitting  that  brave  men  should  go 
with  him  as  far  as  possible  into  the  dark  valley.  His  last 
words  were,  "  Doctor,  I  can't  see." 

Lieutenant  Kellogg,  who  was  going  home,  was  imme 
diately  apprised,  of  his  death  by  telegraph.  He  replied, 
"  Send  the  body  down  to  Xew  Orleans."  That  was  im 
possible,  for  there  was  no  boat,  and  no  metallic  case  or 
suitable  coffin  could  be  had.  The  surgeons  allowed  the 
body  to  be  kept  as  long  as  possible,  but  it  changed  so  rap 
idly,  that  he  was  buried  the  next  day  in  the  cemetery  at 
Raton  Rouge.  At  sunset  of  June  13th,  Lieutenant  Judd 
sank  to  his  rest,  while  on  the  Ik-Id  of  his  young  renown, 
graves  were  yawning  for  fresh  victims. 

"  I  am  weary  pining ; 
Brothers  red  with  brothers'  gore  ; 
Only  that  the  wrong  we're  righting, 
Truth  and  honor's  battle  fighting, 
I  would  draw  my  sword  no  more." 

It  is  "  truth  and  honor's  battle"  we  are  fighting.  Only 
this  assurance  enables  us  to  yield  up  such  lives,  and  feel 
that  even  this  cost  is  not  too  groat,  if  only  thus  God's 
truth  can  be  maintained.  Because  the  cause  is  so  much 
more  sacred  than  this  life,  ay,  than  a  hecatomb  of  such 
lives,  we  put  away  our  dead  in  silence,  and  gird  ourselves 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  297 

to  follow  his  brilliant  example,  though  it  leads  us  to  kin 
dred  graves.  "  Doctor,  I  can't  see,"  said  our  dying  com 
rade.  We  trust  that  now,  in  the  purer  light  of  eternity, 
at  the  touch  of  the  heavenly  Physician,  he  can  clearly 
recognize  that  his  death  was  not  in  vain.  We  thank  God 

O 

that  battle  strikes  down  not  alone  the  unworthy,  but  also 
those  o'er  whom  we  weep  bitter  tears,  so  that  the  pro 
foundest  hopes  of  our  country  become  as  enduring  as  the 
profoundest  sorrows  of  our  hearts.  Martyrs'  blood  is 
holy  seed,  from  which  springs  up  a  posterity  careless  of 
death,  if  only  they  may  tread  the  path  rendered  glorious 
by  their  ancestors'  deeds.  Around  the  tombs  that  crowd 
the  cemetery  at  Baton  Rouge,  some  of  the  holiest  associ 
ations  of  our  nation  gather ;  and  at  the  grave  of  the  gal 
lant  and  much-loved  Judd  we  drink  such  draughts  of 
patriotism,  albeit  intermingled  is  the  fennel's  bitter  leaf, 
that  our  moral  vision  is  cleared ;  and  we  no  longer  say, 
"  Doctor,  I  can't  see,"  but  as  in  a  vision  of  light,  we  see 
the  Genius  of  Liberty,  her  "  garments  rolled  in  blood," 
leading  America  through  seas  of  gore  and  over  moun 
tains  of  slain,  to  the  promised  land  ;  the  breezes  of  which 
unfurl  a  banner,  whose  stars,  hiding  its  stripes,  reflect  the 
glory  of  that  God  who  is  now  training  us  to  "  proclaim 
liberty  throughout  all  the 'land,  unto  all  the  inhabitants 
thereof."  Noble,  gifted  comrade  !  he  has  not  died  in 
vain,  nor  prematurely.  His  young  life  counts  more  for 
God  and  humanity  than  scores  of  those  who  are  ignobly 
deaf  to  a  country's  call,  though  they  may  fill  up  the  full 
measure  of  their  years.  The  warrior  sleeps  well,  having 
by  noble  deeds  done  something  to  right  great  wrongs, 
and  to  prepare  a  nation  to  fulfil  the  grandest  mission  ever 
intrusted  to  any  people. 

"  I  can't  see !"  Yes,  there*  are  hearts  in  Berkshire 
which  will  take  up  that  dying  cry.  For  a  while  they 
will  not  be  able  to  see  why  their  only  boy  should  fall  in 
manly  prime.  A  father's  pride  will  struggle  hard  to  get 
the  mastery  over  his  sorrow  and  loneliness,  while  the 


298  LIF.E    WITH    THE    FORTY-MMII 

aching  heart  of  a  mother,  like  Rachel,  "  may  refuse  to  be 
comforted    because    her    children    arc    not."     A    in. 
voiced  wailing  goes  up  to  God  from  ten  thousand  aching 
licarts   in   lonely    homes,  from  which  life's  life,  love,  lias 
gone    out.     They  may  yet    "see"  a    brighi  ting 

their  sorrow,  as  a  nation  sheds  its  tears  of  pride  and  joy 
over  the  graves  of  them  whose  blood  turned  away  a 
Divine  wrath.  I  sadden  as  I  think  of  the  to  be  bereaved 
hearts  that  clung  so  fondly  about  Eugene  Jndd,  but  theiv 
are  parents  who  would  give  all  their  wealth  could  they 
mourn  as  proudly  over  the  tombs  of  their  children  as  can 
the  parents  of  the  hero  we've  buried. 

Lieutenant  Judd  was  born  in  the  State  of  New  York, 
March  7th,  1840.  lie  was  the  only  son  of  A.  G.  Judd, 
formerly  of  South  Lee.  lie  had  received  an  excellent 
education,  was  a  splendid  penman,  and  a  very  superior 
business  man.  For  a  season  he  was  a  popular  teacher  of 
the  public  schools  of  Great  Barrington.  At  the  tinii 
his  enlistment  he  was  engaged  in  the  store  of  S.  B.  Goodale, 
South  Egremont,  of  whose  family  he  was  a  member,  and 
by  them  loved  and  cherished  as  a  brother.  Though  occu 
pied  in  nothing  but  a  small  country  store,  he  gave  to  It 
all  his  energy,  and  manifested  business  qualifications  that 
promised  a  brilliant  future.  His  social  nature  was  of  a 
rare  order,  lie  made  friends  readily,  and  kept  them. 
Gentlemanly,  genial,  kind,  and  sacrificing,  "to  know  him 
was  to  love  him."  lie  joined  Company  E,  and  was  ap 
pointed  sergeant,  having  declined  a  lieutenancy  in  favor 
of  his  tried  friend,  Lieutenant  R.  T.  Sherman,  who  has 
nobly  proved  his  lit  ness  to  lead  brave  men  into  the  jaws 
of  death,  from  which  he  himself  so  narrowly  escaped  with 
severe  wounds.  For  a  man  like  young  Judd,  the  sacri 
fice  was  no  light  one.  *  Proud-spirited  and  gift  (1,  a 
subordinate  position  was  not  his  proper  place.  He  felt 
within  himself  the  capacity  to  co//////r///</  men.  Faithfully 
he  did  the  duties  of  a  sergeant  in  Company  E,  till  Captain 
Weston  (K)  secured  his  services  in  raising  his  company, 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  299 

of  which  he  was  elected  second-lieutenant.  On  the 
resignation  of  Lieutenant  Taft,  Colonel  Bartlett  appointed 
him  first-lieutenant. 

His  military  qualifications  were  of  a  marked  character. 
He  had  not  his  superior  in  the  regiment,  considering 
his  experience.  With  a  natural  fondness  for  military 
pursuits,  he  mastered  the  details  of  his  profession  with 
great  readiness ;  and,  had  his  life  been  spared,  he  intend 
ed  to  remain  in  the  army  till  the  close  of  the  war.  He 
doubtlessly  would  have  risen  to  distinction.  He  was 
much  of  a  favorite  with  the  field  and  staff  officers.  The 
Colonel  saw  in  him  a  brother-spirit,  and  gave  him  more 
than  an  ordinary  share  of  his  notice.  Petted,  yet  he 
did  not  become  self-conceited  and  vain.  Not  obse 
quious  to  his  superiors  in  rank,  he  was  not  arrogant  to  his 
temporary  inferiors.  None  mourn  him  more  sincerely 
than  the  privates  of  that  choice  and  intelligent  company 
(K).  To  his  immediate  superior,  Captain  Weston,  he 
.united  the  respectful  kindness  of  a  brother  to  the  submis 
sion  of  a  subordinate,  and  together  they  lived  in  confi 
dence  and  happiness.  I  have  lingered  long  at  his  grave, 
longer  than  at  any  other  grave,  not  because  he  was 
morally  superior  or  more  patriotic  than  many  others  of 
our  "  fallen  brave,"  but  because  he  was  a  marked  charac 
ter  in  a  position*  where  that  character  could  become 
known  and  appreciated.  I  now  leave  that  grave,  hoping 
that  it  may  never  be  disturbed,  but  that  his  remains  shall 
continue  to  lie  here,  to  teach  the  future  freemen,  wrhite 
and  black,  of  this  State,  how  costly  the  price  paid  for 
their  enfranchisement.  He  was  buried  in  his  military 
dress;  and  his  sword,  so  nobly  worn,  the  gift  of  an  ap 
preciating  friend,  was  sent  home  to  his  bereaved  father. 


"  They  have  sent  me  the  sword  that  my  brave  boy  wore, 

On  the  field  of  his  young  renown  ; 
OiAhe  last  red  field,  where  his  faith  was  sealed, 
And  the  sun  of  his  days  went  down. 


300  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY  MI MH 

Away  with  the  tears 

That  are  blinding  me  so ; 
There  is  joy  in  his  years,  .  . 

Though  his  young  head  be  low ; 
And  I'll  gaze  with  a  solemn  delight  evermore 
On  the  sword  that  my  brave  boy  wore. 

"'Twas  for  freedom  and  home  that  I  gave  him  away, 

Like  the  sons  of  his  race  of  old ; 
And  though  aged  and  gray,  I  am  sonless  this  day, 
He  is  dearer  a  thousand-fold. 

There's  a  glory  above  him 

To  hallow  his  name, 
A  land  that  will  love  him 
Who  died  for  its  fame  ; 

And  a  solace  will  shine,  when  my  old  heart  is  sore, 
Round  the  sword  that  my  brave  boy  wore. 

"It  was  kind  of  his  comrades,  ye  know  not  how  kind, 

It  was  more  than  the  Indies  to  me ; 
Ye  know  not  how  kind,  and  how  steadfast  of  mind, 
The  soldier  to  sorrow  can  be. 

They  know  well  how  lonely, 

How  grievously  wrung, 
Is  the  heart  that  its  only 

Love  loses  so  young ; 

And  they  closed  his  blue  eyes  when  the  battle  was  o'er, 
And  his  sent  old  father  tho  sword  that  ho  wore." 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEEKS.  301 


LETTER    XXXI. 

BEFORE  PORT  HUDSON,  July  6,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L.  : 

I  am  sick  of  hearing  the  cry,  "  Time's  out ;"  as  if  our 
country's  claims  on  us  expired  with  the  19th  of  June.  A 
Pennsylvania  regiment  refused  to  fight  at  the  first  Bull 
Run  battle  because  their  term  of  service  expired  the  day 
before.  We  scorned  them  ;  and  now  the  honor  of  Massa 
chusetts  is  somewhat  stained,  for  the  4th  refused  to  do 
duty,  and,  on  stern  measures  being  threatened,  one 
hundred  still  remained  disobedient,  and  are  now  under 
arrest,  as  also  are  some  of  the  48th,  for  a  similar  offence. 
The  50th  were  about  to  follow  suit,  when  Banks  informed 
them  it  would  be  a  death  or  Dry  Tortugas  affair,  and  so 
they  volunteered  to  stay  two  weeks  longer,  and  were  pub 
licly  thanked  for  it.  The  Major  went  to  head-quarters 
on  the  19th  ult.,  and  though  he  keeps  his  own  counsel,  I 
guess  he  learned  there  that  if  we  refused  duty,  we  would 
have  to  measure  arms  with  the  power  of  the  United  States 
government.  He  did  not  tell  us  so,  in  so  many  words, 
but  we  have  clearly  inferred  it.  General  Banks  said,  it 
was  not  his  province  to  decide  when  the  respective  terms 
of  service  ended,  but  that  of  the  Secretary  of  War. 
Troops  were  put  under  his  command  to  do  a  certain  work, 
and  he  meant  to  keep  them  till  their  term  was  out,  accord 
ing  to  the  decision  of  the  authorities  at  Washington.  I 
believe  the  whole  of  the  50th  have  served  out  their  time 
of  service  ;  and  if  Banks  refuses  to  let  them  go,  we  might 
as  well  submit  quietly,  for  there  is  no  help  for  us.  To  do 
our  boys  credit,  they  have  been  quite  quiet  about  it,  and 
have  only  rebelled  in  private  murmurs.  They  say  that 


302  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTV-.NIMUI 

Banks  should  give  us  the  opportunity  of  volitnteer- 
in<j  till  Port  Hudson  surrenders.  They  forget  that  that, 
unless  previously  asked  for  by  us,  would  make  him  the 
decider  of  the  time  the  claims  of  the  government  cea-<-. 
One  of  Company  A,  at  Baton  Rouge,  refused  to  do  duty, 
and  \.  to  prixm  as  his  reward.  Since  it  is  decided 

that  the  nine  months'  men  cannot  be  drafted  till  all  be- 
t\vee:i  twenty  and  forty-live  years  shall  have  been  ex. 
hausted,  it  would  be  wiser  to  send  us  home,  and  so  secure 
our  re-enlisting.  If  government  can  keep  us  a  month 
longer  than  \ve  agreed  to  serve,  why  not  a  year  or  three 
years'?  We  have  the  letter  of  the  law  on  our  side,  but 
patriotism  demands  our  continued  service.  1  would  go 
through  a  dozen  May  1'Tths,  rather  than  now  leave  the 
field  ;  ay,  if  I  was  e<  rlain  of  death.  I  can  see  no  reason 
why  I  should  fail  my  country,  merely  because  the  19th 
of  June  has  come  and  gone.  It  may  be  true,  as  some 
.  that  we  are  poorly  led  and  uselessly  slaughtered,  and 
thai  the  brains  are  all  //•/////,*  and  not  "before  Port  Hud 
son  ;"  but  that  should  only  make  the  voice  of  our  bleeding 
country  sink  more  deeply  into  our  hearts,  and  bring  out 
the  firmer  valor  to  counteract  the  inefficiency  of  our 
lead' 

We  are  not  poorly  led.  An  iron  man,  with  a  sagacious 
1  on  his  shoulders,  is  holding  the  reins.  Artillery 
failing,  assault  or  abandonment  of  the  siege  is  our  alter 
native.  Assaults  have  as  yet  i'ailed,  but  we  are  preparing 
for  another  on  a  grander  scale.  Only  fourteen  thousand 
men  now  draw  rations.  That  is  our  whole  force,  and  in 
cludes  the  sick  not  in  hospitals,  cooks,  teamsters,  cavalry, 
artillerists,  an  I  others,  who  count  nothing  in  a  charge. 
We  have  not  this  day  10,000  fighting  men  before  Port 
Hudson.  Small  but  frequent  battles  at  our  rear;  the 
alarm  at  Baton  Rouge  ;  the  raid  on  Springfield  landing  ; 
the  gathering  of  the  foe  near  Donaldsonville  (where 
they  attacked  Fort  Butler),  by  thousands,  ail  make  us 
doubt  whether  we  will  not  go  home  vanquished  rather 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  303 

than  victors.  Give  the  rebels  another  week  and  they 
Avill  gather  men  enough  in  our  rear  to  compel  the  aban 
donment  of  the  siege.  We  must  get  into  Port  Hudson. 
Then  we  could  defy  the  mighty  arm  of  Johnston,  which, 
if  the  report  be  true,  is  rushing  down  on  us,  unless  they 
closed  the  river  below,  of  which  we  have  no  fears.1  A 
rebel  uprising  in  New  Orleans  is  not  improbable.  Orders 
forbidding  gatherings  of  more  than  six  in  the  streets, 
have  been  issued.  Guerrillas  fire  at  our  river  boats.  No 
wonder  that  Banks  is  sick,  yet  his  will  fails  not,  and  God 
have  mercy  on  those  Massachusetts  men  who  fail  him 
"UTnd  the  nation  in  this  hour  of  peril,  for  I  am  sure  they 
will  get  no  mercy  at  home,  save  from  doting  mothers,  in 
whose  bosoms  patriotism  never  lived  or  has  died  out. 

Escaped  soldiers  say  the  enemy  has  but  2,500  men,  no 
inside  works,  provisions  for  one  week,  and  forty  rounds 
of  cartridges.  Be  assured  of  that,  and  that  that  week 
would  not  bring  up  their  friends,  and  an  assault  were  better 
postponed.  But  how  can  prisoners  know  these  things  ? 
jTgo  everywhere  and  know  nothing.  Guesses  are  all.  I 
suppose  General  Banks  is  in  constant  communication,  by 
water,  with  Grant,  and  knows  all  about  the  movements  of 
Johnston,  and  that  he  gives  some  credence  to  these  stories 
about  short  rations  within  the  fort,  for  the  long-expected 
assault  has  been  deferred.  Immediately,  after  the  direful 
14th  June,  he  issued  orders,  to  secure,  if  possible,  1,000 
volunteers  to  storm  the  enemy's  works.  A  silver  medal 
was  to  be  given  to  each  volunteer.  The  49th  furnished  no 
volunteers,  I  do  not  blame  them.  Had  I  been  present 
when  the  call  was  made,  I  would  not  have  volunteered. 
The  history  of  previous  assaults  rises  up  as  warnings. 
We  will  go  where  ordered,  not  with  former  enthusiasm, 
but  with  no  less  of  will,  but  we  will  not  thrust  ourselves 
into  the  valley  of  death.  Our  quota  was  obtained  by 
drafting.  The  elected  afterwards  volunteered.  They 
wanted  to  be  robed  in  that  name  of  honor.  Lieutenant 
Smith  (II)  was  chosen  their  leader,  but  being  sick,  an 
other  sick  man,  Lieutenant  Dresser  (F)  volunteered  to 


304  LIFE    VVITF1    Til::    loKIY-MNTII 

take  his  place.  We  have  no  nobler  than  that  Dresser. 
Prostrate  with  the  popular  disease,  jaundice,  ami  ex 
hausted,  he  looks  bcticr  fitted  for  the  hospital  than  the 
"forlorn  hope;"  but  Lieutenant  Dodlittle  is  sick  at 
Baton  Rouge,  wlierc  Capta.in  3Iorey  is  also,  unable  to 
carry  out  his  de-ire  to  join  his  company,  and  so  Prc.-ser 
clings  to  his  men  and  to  duty.  On  hearing  of  his  step, 
3Io:ey  tried  to  get  up  here,  but  he' could  not  get  a  pass. 
Baton  Rouge  was  threatened  ;  nightly,  the  troops  were 
under  arms ;  cannon  were  posted  everywhere ;  the  sick 
and  convalescents  were  its  main  defence  ;  thousands  of 
wounded  crowded  its  hospitals  ;  it  was  one  of  our  base* 
of  sup] .lies,  and  at  all  hazards  must  be  held.  Badly  as 
we  needed  men,  so  valuable  an  officer  as  Captain  3Iorey 
could  not  be  spared.  Failing  to  come  up,  he  scut  a  writ 
ten  protest  against  Dresser's  leaving  his  company,  which 
his  fall  would  make  oilicerless.  On  Sunday,  the  21st,  the 
stormers  from  the  centre  reported  at  General  Augur's 
quarters,  and  because  our  boys  were  not  volx/it'^r*,  they 
were  sent  bads.  The  work  demands  men  who  would 
throw  their  whole  souls  into  it.  Perchance  he  feared 
that  those  who  claimed  that  their  time  had  expired  could 
not  do  so.  lie  may  have  been  right,  but  I  doubt  whet  her 
Colonel  Birge  will  have  any  men  in  his  choice  band  who 
will  go  further  than  they  would  have  done. 

The  assault  will  be  on  the  right  and  on  the  left,  where 
the  ambulances  have  been  collected.  Daily  have  we 
been  expecting  it.  The  boats  are  not  allowed  to  leave 
the  landing,  but  they  tarry  there  to  bear  the  wounded 
to  Baton  Rouge.  Preparations  are  being  made  to  under 
mine  the  enemy's  works.  The  frames  we  watched  >o 
closely  have  been  taken  away,  so  the  hour  is  near  al 
hand.  On  the  right  and  h-l't  we  are  within  a  few  yards 
of  the  foe.  This  time  there  will  be  no  marching  hun 
dreds  of  rods  under  a  galling  fire,  to  reach  the  ditch  and 
parapet,  half  dispirited  by  our  loss  and  almost  totally 
exhausted  by  our  labor.  Gallantly  have  the  negroes 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUXTEEES.  305 

held  the  most  exposed  part  of  our  lines,  advancing  rod 
by  rod  till  not  a  rebel  dare  show  his  head.  Frequent 
sorties  have  been  successfully  met  by  black  hands,  who 
dyed  their  glittering  bayonets  and  their  budding  hopes 
in  the  blood  of  many  a  former  master.  They  have  not 
once  flinched.  Protecting  ?^s  arid  carving  out  for  them 
selves  a  name  and  a  nationality,  they  have  shown  the 
world  that  manhood,  crushed  for  centuries,  answers  to 
the  call  of  God  and  freedom.  We  may  leave  our  dead 
and  leave  this  place  in  rebel  hands,  but  we  will  also  leave 
memories  that  will  make  the  name  of  "  Port  Hudson"  as 
dreadful  as  the  sound  of  a  "  fire-bell  in  the  night,"  to 
those*  who  shall  attempt  the  re-enslavement  of  the  African. 
For  the  privilege  of  commanding  a  negro  company,  I 
would  be  almost  willing  to  endure  for  years  the  monotony, 
the  mental  stagnation,  the  ennui  of  a  soldier's  life.  1 
might  fall,  and  a  demand  for  my  body  might  be  answered, 
"We've  buried  him  with  his  niggers,"  and  to  my  chil 
dren,  I  could  leave  no  richer  legacy.  To  die  for  one's 
race,  and  that  the  dominant  race  of  the  world,  is  noble 
indeed,  but  nobler  yet  to  link  your  life  and  death  with  the 
elevation  of  your  own  land,  and  of  a  people,  the  despised 
and  rejected  of  earth. 

What  we  will  meet  when  we  get  inside  the  parapet,  we 
know  not.  Batteries  may  open  cross  fires  on  us  ;  explod 
ing  mines  may  mingle  our  mangled  remains  with  the  torn 
bodies  of  desperate  foes,  but,  if  there  be  nothing  but  bay 
onet  work,  we  will  be  victors.  To  stand  cold  steel  re 
quires  the  firm  nerves,  the  fixed  will,  heirlooms  of  North 
ern  freemen.  It  would  require  whole  chapters  to  de 
scribe  the  immense  amount  of  engineering  work  that  has 
been  done  on  our  right  and  left.  Scores  of  miles  of  road 
have  been  made,  mainly  at  night ;  ravines  hundreds  of 
feet  deep  have  been  bridged  for  the  passage  of  guns 
weighing  ten  thousand  pounds  each.  Hundreds  on  hun 
dreds  of  miles  of  rifle-pits  unite  the  different  batteries. 
On  the  left,  we  have  erected  a  battery  of  twenty  guns, 


306  LIFE    WITH   THE   FORTT-XTVTIT 

within  fifty  rods  of  the  foe,  who  scarcely  interrupted  us 
by  a  shot.  For  a  week  an  informal  truce  preserved  quiet 
on  both  sides.  Within  a  few  yards,  mutual  enemies 
worked  to  prepare  agencies  of  destruction  and  of  preserva 
tion,  and  not  a  single  gun  indicated  that  they  were  foes. 
Often,  the  laugh  and  the  jest  would  be  interchanged,  and 
like  our  own  boys  on  the  centre,  they  would  mutually 
throw  down  their  guns,  meet  as  friends,  exchange  papers, 
receive  tobacco  for  bread  or  beef,  and  then  go  back  to 
their  lines,  a  waiting  the  order  to  exchange  missiles  of  death. 
Frequently,  we  see  rebels  come  outside  the  parapet,  to 
get  muddy  water  from  the  ditch,  but  we  do  not  molest 
them.  On  the  left,  we  have  dug  under  their  citadel, 
which  we  had  previously  battered  almost  djwn,  since 
informal  truce  was  suspended,  and  have  also  silenced 
their  river  batteries,  that  the  boats  could  come  nearer. 
On  their  battered  citadel  floats  a  flag,  which  again  and 
again  has  been  shot  away,  replacing  which  has  co.>t  them 
many  a  brave  life.  We  are  far  ln.ii<-ath-  them,  and  through 
troughs,  they  roll  down  thirty-two  pound  shells,  the  burst 
ing  of  which  is  by  no  means  pleasant,  though  seldom 
fatal.  I  laud-grenades,  or  small  shells  arc  thrown  at  the 
foe,  and  not  unfrequently  the  enemy  catch  them  up  be 
fore  exploding,  and  hurl  them  into  our  ranks  to  do  the 
work  of  death.  "  Curses  coming  home  to  roost,"  we 
say. 

The  Forty-ninth  are  located  far  in  front,  in  rifle-pits, 
supporting  two  large  batteries.  A,  II,  F,  and  D,  are  on 
the  verge  of  ;  and  are  comparatively  comfortable, 

but  the  rest  of  the  companies  are  many  rods   ahead. 
posed  to  the  unbroken  rays  of.  the  sun.     In  going  from 
one  part  of  the   regiment  to   the  other,  it  is  necessary, 
after  passing   through  a  ravine,  to  go  along   pii.s,    which 
are   iK-arly  at  right  angles  with  the  rebel  lines,  alibi-d 
ing  them   a   fine    chance   to   hit    us,    which   they  occa 
sionally  improve.      For  three  ;  is  our  left  been 
thus   exposed,   nearly   every   night   of  which  has   been 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  30V 

marked  with  rain,  making  their  sleeping  apartments  far 
from  comfortable,  for  now,  that  they  are  ao  much  ex 
posed,  sleeping  in  the  pits  is  a  matter  of  necessity. 
When  matters  are  too  quiet,  our  boys  get  up  on  the 
works  to  invite  the  fire  of  their  foes.  By  watching 
carefully  the  smoke  they  can  jump  down  before  the  bullet 
comes.  The  danger  is,  some  fellow  whom  they  are  not 
watching  may  show  his  skill.  The  rebs  don't  fire  at  all 
of  these  chances,  for  it  occasionally  happens  that  one  or 
two  thus  make  targets  of  their  bodies,  so  that  their 
comrades  may  fire  when  the  enemy  exposes  himself  to 
fire  at  us.  This  kind  of  life  is  pleasant  for  a  few  days, 
but  three  weeks  of  burning  sun,  of  rainy  nights,  and  wet 
beds,  take  all  the  fun  out  of  it.  Xear  our  works  we 
have  found  springs  of  good,  cool  water.  I  have  my 
doubts  whether  it  would  pass  muster  at  home,  but  to  us 
it  is  a  highly  prized  luxury. 

With  good  sense,  the  Major  allows  the  boys  much 
liberty,  and  they  roam  about,  regaling  themselves  with 
the  novel  sights  and  scenes  and  the  abundant  black 
berries  that  crowd  and  adorn  our  hedges.  I  was  sorry 
to  see  one  poor  fellow  tied  to  a  tree  for  insulting  his 
captain,  especially  as  he  was  in  an  exposed  place,  but  I 
was  glad  that  the  Major,  in  his  leniency,  was  determined 
to  enforce  discipline,  though  "  time  be  out."  He  must 
do  it,  or  nothing  but  our  good  sense  would  keep  us  from 
degenerating  into  an  armed  rabble. 

Speaking  of  raids  and  scares,  reminds  me  that  the 
raid  on  Springfield  Landing  was  a  serious  matter.  A 
body  of  rebels  scattered  the  few  troops  that  were  there, 
fired  a  storehouse,  and  then  retreated  at  the  hoarse  voice 
of  a  gunboat.  Several  hundred  contrabands  were  living 
there  in  mud  huts,  and  at  the  first  alarm  rushed  on  board 
the  steamboats,  twenty-one  being  drowned  in  their  frantic 
eiforts  to  secure  their  safety.  That  panic  spread  to  our 
cook-stands,  a  mile  to  the  rear  of  the  regiment,  and  to 
see  our  butcher  pick  up  his  small  demijohn  of  whiskey, 


30R  LIFE    WITH    THE 

which  he  sells  at  two  dollars  per  pint  bottle,  nn<l  rush 
for  the  before   carefully  avoided  rifle-] >its,  followed  by 
some  of  the  cooks,  who  h.-isiily  upset   their  coffee  and 
beans,    resolved    that    the    rebels    should    not   breal. 
tliereon,  was  one  of  those  rich  incidents  that  need  t" 
seen  to  be  fully  appreciated. 

I  offended  a  colored  woman  by  calling  her  a  "  contra 
band."  l»e  it  understood,  that  "  contrabands"  are  sup 
ported  by  the  Government.  She  supported  herself.  A 
sergeant  at  the  Landing,  in  charge  of  some  colored 
workmen,  was  telling  one  of  them  that  he  would  be  tied 
up  l?y  the  thumbs  and  whipped  at  sunset.  I  asked  him 
by  what  right  he  would  inflict  that  punishment  on  a  negro 
more  than  on  a  white  citizen.  He  said  it  was  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Benedict's  order.  I  replied  that  no  officer  had 
a  right  to  transform  a  soldier  into  a  whipper  of  poor 
darkeys,  and  as  for  me,  I  would  die  rather  than  so  lower 
my  manhood.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  adding  that 
soldiers'  feelings  are  not  much  respected.  They  can 
demand  respect  being  paid  to  those  feelings,  or,  if  nothing 
else,  can  scornfully  and  proudly  suffer  for  violation  of 
such  orders.  Send  a  man  into  a  charge  on  Slaughter's 
field  for  God  and  Freedom,  and  then  ask  him  to  aid  in 
tying  up  a  poor  negro  by  the  thumbs  and  to  apply  the 
lash  !  Like  Rossiter,  when  told  to  "  buck"  one  of  the 
"  mackerels"  at  Snedeker's,  he  asked  Captain  Garlick  if 
duty  required  him  to  do  that ;  so  a  man's  self-respect 
would  put  to  his  conscience  the  same  question,  and,  re 
ceiving  the  emphatic  "No,"  he  would  tell  Colonel  IJene- 
dict,  or  General  Banks  himself,  that  he  was  a  soldier, 
not  a  plantation  overseer,  and  abide  the  consequences. 
If  he  did  not,  his  meanness  would  prove  him  a  coward. 
Let  contrabands  be  treated  as  white  workmen.  If  they 
will  not  duly  serve  the  government  that  feeds  them, 
send  them  off  to  shift  for  themselves,  but  God  forbid 
that  our  Government,  in  full  view  of  Port  Hudson,  shall 
take  up  the  abandoned  slave-whip. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  309 

I  have  made  a  flying  visit  to  Baton  Rouge,  and  was 
surprised  to  see  how  sickness  improved  the  appearance 
of  some  of  our  comrades,  and  only  of  some.  Not  a  few 
would  tremblingly  ask  me,  "  when  will  the  regiment  re 
turn,  that  we  can  go  home?"  Poor  fellows!  some  of 
them  have  seen  home  for  the  last  time.  Arrangements 
are  being  made  to  send  our  sick  North.  The  loudest 
complainers  have  secured  their  tickets,  while  noble  spirits 
like  G.  C.  Ray  (D),  are  destined  to  tarry.  They  should 
go ;  for  a  few  weeks  longer,  and  they  will  be  past  hope 
of  recovery.  Mr.  Ray  has  gotten  some  writing  to  do  for 
the  medical  department,  that  his  mind  may  be  employed, 
hoping  thus  to  counteract  the  killing  monotony  of  camp- 
life.  His  life  is  too  valuable  to  be  lost  to  his  family  and 
his  country.  Leaving  a  luxurious  home,  in  middle  life, 
earnestly  devoted  to  the  great  principles  of  the  war,  he 
came  to  fight  for  Freedom  and  his  native  land ;  and  sad 
is  it  that  the  battle  hour  finds  him  utterly  unable  to  do  a 
soldier's  part,  where  brave  hearts  are  needed.  This,  as 
much  as  disease,  is  eating  out  his  life,  and,  I  much  fear, 
his  will  be  one  of  the  graves  that  swallow  up  those  gal 
lant  spirits  who  yearned  to  do  or  die,  but  are  ordained  to 
learn  life's  hardest  lesson,  "  suffer  and  be  strong."  It  is 
heart-rending  to  watch  these  brave  fellows  sinking  into 
death.  Knowing  they  can  by  no  possibility  serve  their 
country,  their  one  prayer  is,  to  be  sparecj  to  die  at  home. 
The  ambition  of  the  patriot  is  swallowed  up  irf  the  yearn 
ings  of  the  husband,  the  father,  the  son.  "  Victory,  and 
then  home,"  wells  up  as  a  prayer  from,  our  hearts.  God 
only  knows  with  what  intensity  and  .what  agony  they 
unite  in  the  same  petition ;  and,  if  weak,  almost  gone, 
they  emphasize  "  home,""  who  is  so  much  the  patriot,  so 
little  the  man,  as  to  censure  them  ?  The  dulness  of  the 
camp  is  fearful,  and  walks  through  the  city  are  not  much 
more  cheering.  The  streets  are  crowded  with  pale, 
5maciated,  maimed  soldiers.  Hobbling  about  on  crutches, 
arms  in  slings,  or  with  "  empty  sleeves,"  you  see  the  dear 


310  LIFE    WITH    THE    FOKTY-XINTIT 

fellows,  and,  with  moistened  eyes,  think  of  their  proud, 
but  dependent  futures.  Most  of  the  wounded  are  in  good 
spirit:-:,  while  the  merely  pick  look  very  despondent.  The 
Hospitals  are  crowded,  and  they  tire  making  arrangements 
for  the  victims  of  the  coining  battle.  Our  privi! 

!y.  The  hospitals  arc  in  excellent  order,  and  many 
of  their  stricken  inmates  are  really  jolly.  The  few  loyal 
women  of  the  place  minister  unto  them ;  and  some,  wi 
sympathies  rise  above  sectional  animosity,  unite  with 
them  in  these  offices  of  human  kindness.  Colonel  Bart- 
lett's  arm  gets  no  better.  Colonel  Simmer  goes  home.  I 
am  sorry  for  that.  By  the  time  he  reaches  Berkshire  he 
will  be  nearly  well,  and  will  find  it  difficult  to  reconcile 
his  leaving  the  regiment  with  the  people's  idea  of  his 
duty ;  for,  you  are  aware,  that  stay-at-home  patriots  put 
the  standard  of  other  people's  duties  very  high.  Like 
Artemus  Ward,  they  are  ready  to  sacrifice — their  wife's 
brother.  "We  do  not  particularly  need  the  services  of 
Colonel  Sumner,  though  the  presence  of  a  cool  head  and 
a  brave  heart  is  not  to  be  despised  ;  but  we  regret  that 
he  should  take  a  step  that  may  mar  his  proud  and  un 
stained  record. 

Lieutenant  Kniffin,  who,  to  his  wound,  has  had  fever 
superadded,  also  leaves.  We  had  few  Kniffins.  Happy 
the  regiment  that  has  many  such!  No  officer  was  more 
really  loved  than  he.  A  good  judge  says,  that  ( Y>mpany 
1>.  i<  the  best  disciplined  company  of  the  49th,  and  /  know 
that  its  business  account  ha*  been  kept  in  an  unsurpassed 
manner.  -  Garlick  and  Kniffin  are  a  strong  team,  and 
would  have  made.Company  l>  one  of  the  best  companies, 
if  it  had  originally  been  the  worst,  instead  of  being  A  No.  1 
from  the  beginning.  AYe  begin  to  hope  that  the  brave 
Siggins  (though  minus  an  eye),  and  Sherman  will  recover. 
Our  effective  men  form  a  company  in  the  convalescent 
regiment,  under  the  command  of  Captain  Morey.  If  the 
hour  of  their  trial  shall  come,  Morey  will  show  that  ne 
cessity,  not  a  lack  of  courage,  alone  kept  him  from 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  311 

receiving  his  share  of*  the  glory  that  gathers  round  Port 
Hudson. 

Independence  Day  passed  without  the  expected  assault. 
Though  long  deferred,  certainly  that  would  be  the  day. 
We  wanted  to  connect  the  surrender  of  this  place  with 
the  hallowed  memories  of  the  4th  of  July.  It  seemed 
that  the  miserable  traitors  had  forgotten  the  very  exist 
ence  of  our  National  Anniversary,  for  when  a  salute  of 
thirty-four  unshotted  guns  announced  its  advent,  they 
noticed  no  death  tokens  following  the  report,  and  thought 
we  were  tiring  at  Johnston,  who  had  at  last  come  to  their 
help.  They  mounted  the  walls  and  cheered  lustily ;  but 
some  guns  that  were  shotted,  showed  them  the  propriety 
of  not  "hallooing  till  they  get  out  of  the  woods."  No 
wonder  they  forgot  that  the.  nation's  birthday  had  again 
rolled  round,  for  they  are  doing  what  they  can  to  blot 
out  the  day,  and  to  give  the  lie  to  those  great  truths  that 
alone  separate  it  from  common  days.  The  thirty-four 
guns  rang  out*  to  them  our  proud  assertion  that  every 
State  was  yet  in  the  Union,  and  while  we  had  a  cannon 
or  a  man  left,  all  should  stay  there.  The  noon  salute 
was  fired  from  Captain  Holcomb's  2d  Vermont  battery, 
and  he  showed  his  aversion  to  traitors  by  crowding 
his  guns  with  shells,  so  that  the  national  salute  might 
ring  out  the  guilty  souls  of  some  who  were  doing  their 
best  to  prevent  that  day  from  becoming  a  world's  holiday. 
A  few  days  before,  Banks  made  stirring  speeches  to  the 
forlorn  hope,  and  to  those  who  are  to  follow  them  on  the 
right,  in  which  he  alluded  to  our  flag  floating  in  triumph 
over  Port  Hudson  on  the  4th  of  July.  As  that  day 
passed  without  any  general  movement  on  our  side,  we 
conclude  that  he  believes  the  enemy  has  eaten  nearly  all 
his  mules,  and  that  he  can  safely  wait  a  few  days  for 
starvation  to  do  the  work  of  an  assault.  I  hope  he  is 
right.  There  are  full  enough  precious  graves  here,  full 
enough  loyal  hearts  whose  saddest  recollection  will  twine 
about  these  graves. 


312  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-SIXTH 

//  ,//•//  E.  Grippen  (B),  a  former  from  Lanesboro,  aged 
thirty-five  years,  was  killed  by  a  sharpshooter  OD  Sunday, 
the  21st  of  June.  lie  was  one  of  the  number  who  were 
chosen  to  represent  our  regiment  in  the  grand  storming 
party.  Geiu-ral  Augur  dismissed  them,  and  peivhance, 
congratulating  himself  on  being  snatched  from  the  fiery 
furnace,  he  wended  his  way  to  the  rifle-pits,  where  he 
was  suddenly  struck  down  by  a  ball  crashing  through  his 
brain.  How  little  man  knows  where  lies  the  path  of 
safety !  Of  this  only  are  we  assured,  that  the  path  of 
duty  is  the  path  of  eternal  safety.  Wounded  about  sun 
down,  he  died  about  11  P.  M.  A  good  soldier  was  thus 
lost  to  Company  B  ;  and  wife  and  children,  so  near,  as 
they  imagined,  to  the  happy  reunion,  will  see  but  his 
vacant  place  in  our  ranks  "when  the  boys  come  home." 

ConraU  Ileins  (B),  a  good,  diligent  soldier,  was  wound 
ed  in  the  back  by  the  bursting  of  one  of  our  own  shells, 
June  22d,  and  died  at  Springfield  Landing.  He  was  on 
duty  in  Slaughter's  field,  in  advance  of  our  battery.  A 
shell  exploding  too  soon,  deprived  us  of  a  worthy  com- 
rad  ',  and  a  family  of  its  head  and  protection.  He  was 
a  .red  thirty-eight  years,  and  like  his  brother  soldier 
(Grippen),  was  a  farmer  from  Lanesboro.  His  German 
blood  has  given  this  land  a  new  right  to  the  title,  the 
world's  asylum.  The  composite  blood  that  i>  restoring 
our  national  purity,  sweeps  away  the  heresy  that  "  Amer- 
'ica  belongs  to  Americans."  By '-life  and  blood  surren 
der"  of  many  of  the  foreign-born,  it  belongs  to  the 
world.  We  are  battling  for  the  world* s  triumph. 

Joseph  J3.  Wolcott,  Orderly  Sergeant  of  Co.  H,  was 
shot  by  a '  sharpshooter,  on  the  morning  of  June  23. 
It  was  a  beautiful  morning,  and  as  he  sat  near  the  edge 
of  the  rifle-pits  and  saw  the  sun  gilding  the  majestic 
trees,  he  said  to  a  friend,  "  What  a  lovely  morning  this 
would  be  to  die!"  Soon  after  that  a  bullet  passed 
through  his  arm  into  his  lung.  Seeing  that  his  arm  was 
bleeding,  a  Comrade  said,  "Joe!  it  is  only  your  arm. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  31  3 

you  are  safe  yet ;"  but  his  reply  convinced  them  that  the 
"lovely  morning"  would  witness  the  close  of  his  young 
life.  For  a.  while  he  suffered  fearfully.  The  news  soon 
spread,  "  Wolcott  is  shot !"  and  many  of  his  associates 
gathered  round  him.  To  Rising,  who  joined  church 
at  the  same  time  and  place,  he  said,  "  Ned !  they  have 
killed  me."  Rev.  J.  H.  Wood  (E)  came,  talked  with 
him  about  the  world,  on  whos-e  verge  he  was  trembling, 
and  received  the  comforting  assurance  that  a  Christian 
soldier  was  laying  off  his  armor.  At  the  dying  man's 
request,  he  led  in  prayer.  It  was  an  hour  long  to  bo 
remembered.  Giving  to  his  friends,  for  his  young  wife, 
some  blood-stained  tokens  of  his  death  and  love,  he 
tenderly  reproved  his  comrades  for  their  sins,  and  af 
fectionately  exhorted  them  to  turn  to  Jesus.  The  moral 
sublimity  of  that  hour  rose  high  above  the  grandeur  and 
heroism  that  marked  our  battles  in  which  he  always  bore 
so  honorable  a  part.  Those  who  had  thought  but  little 
of  the  claims  of  religion,  who  had  almost  believed  it 
was  an  encumbrance  to  a  soldier,  there  learned  the 
source  from  which  the  quiet  young  Sandisfield  farmer 
drew  his  unwavering  courage.  Before  leaving  his  home, 
he  had,  by  will,  disposed  of  his  earthly  effects,  and  now. 
pointing  his  comrades  to  his  Saviour,  he  sweetly  fell 
asleep  in  Jesus.  We  buried  him  by  the  side  of  his 
intimate  friend,  Lieutenant  Deming,  with  prayer  and 
exhortation,  and  sadly  returned  to  the  scene  of  duty 
and  of  death.  Mrs.  Deming  and  Mrs.  Wolcott  have 
been  living  together  since  their  husbands  left  for  the 
war.  Seeing  those  graves,  where  the  soldier-friends  lie 
side  by  side,  we  could  but  think  of  a  home  in  Berkshire, 
where  their  wives  are  living; — one  mourning,  and  the 
other  comforting.  Alas !  the  latter  knows  not  that  a 
message  will  soon  reach  her  that  will  make  her  a  sister 
in  sorrow,  and,  by  the  sacredness  of  her  own  grief,  more 
fully  prepare  her  to  sympathize  with  the  bereaved.  A 
mutual  agony  now  seals  their  solemn  sisterhood.  Sandis- 
14 


314  LIFE    WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

field,  stricken  as  she  is,  will  add  to  her  mourning  on 
hearing  of  the  death  of  Joseph  B.  Wolcott.  Rich  must 
she  be,  if  she  has  better  sons  left.  Falling  in  his  early 
manhood,  for  he  was  only  twenty-five  years  of  age,  he 
yet  lived  long  enough  to  benefit  his  race,  and  to  twine 
round  his  memory  the  undying  gratitude  of  a  free 
nation.  His  fellow-soldiers  knew  him,  and  they  prized 
him  as  a  comrade  and  loved  him  as  a  man.  None,  none 
of  our  "  fallen  brave"  has  sunk  to  rest  round  whom 
gathered  more  of  respect,  confidence,  and  affection. 

"  Shot  through  the  lungs,  how  he  lay,  how  he  lay, 
At  Port  Hudson  all  that  fearful  day, 
Slowly  bleeding  his  life  away ! 

"Yet  why  our  life  but  to  spend  it  free, 
As  the  snow  thai  falls  on  the  angry  lea, 
For  the  Right,  for  the  Truth,  for  Liberty  ? 

"  And  the  brave  heart  knows,  with  a  quiet  content, 
When  treason  and  murder  their  shafts  have  sent, 
That  the  time  is  at  hand  for  which  it  was  lent. 

"But  oh!  Fatherland,  that  we  love  so  well, 
Shall  the  future  annals  shuddering  tell 
It  was  all  in  vain  that  our  heroes  fell? 

"  We  give  them  up  at  thy  bittw  cry, 
We  say  no  word  when  they  go  to  die — 
Is  it  Freedom's  dawn  that  reddens  the  sky? 

"  Ah,  comrade,  sleep  well  in  thy  soldier's  bed 
At  Port  Hudson,  in  the  field  of  our  dead, 

Who  knows  who  watcheth  overhead?" 

• 

Charles  II.  Cook  (B),  farmer  boy,  from  West  Stock- 
bridge,  aged  twenty,  was  severely  wounded  in  the  chest, 
in  the  battle  of  May  27th,  and  died  on  the  2d  inst., 
at  Baton  Rouge.  Bravely  fighting,  he  met  his  death- 
wound,  and  now  sleeps  among  strangers.  Peace  to 
his  ashes  ! 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  315 

The  day  following  the  battle  of  June  14th,  General 
Banks  sent  in  wines,  medicines,  and  other  necessaries 
for  our  wounded.  As  a  so-called  "honor"  sometimes 
survives  the  burial  of  patriotism,  these  supplies  may 
fulfil  their  mission.  While  the  flag  of  truce  under  which 
this  kind  action  was  done  was  flying,  an  officer,  stooping 
down  to  pick  up  some  trophies,  was  reminded  by  a 
bullet  that  he  was  abusing  that  flag.  The  rebels  have 
been  seen  working,  when  honor  thus  demanded  rest,  so 
we  think  our  poor  sufferers*  will  hardly  get  all  the  luxu 
ries  we  have  sent  them.  Many  of  our  dead,  and  some 
of  our  wounded  remained  on  the  field  from  Sunday  to 
Wednesday,  when  Gardner,  finding  their  decomposing 
bodies  were  working  pestilence,  requested  General 
Banks  to  bury  them.  One  hundred  and  fourteen  were 
found,  tw'o  of  whom  were  still  alive,  almost  eaten  up 
with  maggots.  The  enemy  says  we  could  have  buried 
them  on  Monday,  but  would  not  ask  the  favor,  and  left 
the  putrid  bodies  to  annoy  and  disable  them.  I  hope 
they  lie,  for  that  is  too  horrible  even  for  war.  Captain 
Garlick,  after  that  battle,  led  out  the  pioneers  to  act  as 
pickets,  and  until  10  o'clock  of  the  next  night,  they 
were  not  relieved,  all  of  which  time  they  were  without 
food  or  water.  They  suffered,  but  who  can  describe  the 
sufferings  of  those  wounded  ones  during  the  awful  four 
days  between  their  fall  and  recovery ! 

Governor  Andrew  having  refused  to  commission 
Brooks  (C),  Siggins  (D),  andGleason  (K),  (whom  Colonel 
Bartlett  appointed  2d  lieutenants  in  their  respective 
companies,)  on  the  ground  that  in  nine  months'  regi 
ments,  officers  must  be  elected  by  the  men,  elections  to 
fill  these  vacancies  were  held  June  24th,  at  the  rifle-pits. 
That  part  of  the  regiment  which  is  before  the  foe  is  the 
regiment  proper,  though  not  one-tenth  of  the  men  are 
present.  The  veterans  were  to  express  their  preference. 
In  Co.  K.,  Sergeant  Rising  had  a  majority  on  the  first 
ballot,  but  thinking  that  the  office  properly  belonged  to 


316  LIFE    WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTn 

the  wounded  Gleason  he  generously  declined  the  proffered 
honor,  and  Gleason  was  elected.  In  Co.  D,  the  •//- 
polntnient  of  Lieutenant  Siggins  was  confirmed  by  the 
unanimous  vote  of  the  members  thereof.  Had  all  of 
that  company  been  present,  1  doubt  not  that  the  result 
would  have  been  just  the  same.  In  Co.  C,  Sergeant 
Strong  led  Sergeant  Nash  one  vote,  and  was,  conse 
quently,  elected.  To  choose  between  Strong  and  Nash 
was  not  easy  work.  Both  are  brave  soldiers  and  both 
have  fully  done  their  duty,  <md  we  were  sorry  that  we 
could  not  elect  both.  Perchance  Strong's  being  one  of 
the  "  forlorn  hope"  turned  the  scale  in  his  favor.  In  the 
first  election  for  2d  lieutenant,  next  to  Wells,  the  then 
successful  candidate,  they  had  the  greatest  number  of 
votes.  Lieutenant  Strong  deserves  this  compliment. 
No  man  was  ever  more  faithful  and  reliable.  The  honor 
is  much  greater  than  if  he  had  been  elected  at  the  first. 
"We  have  tried  him  for  more  than  nine  months  as  ser 
geant,  as  acting  orderly,  and  as  commander,  and  this 
election  is  our  mature  verdict  of  "Well  done!"  Cap 
tain  Lingenfelter,  though  still  complaining,  has  returned 
to  duty.  Lieutenant  Foster  has  been  sick  for  a  few 
days.  He  now  occupies  and  merits  a  warm  place  in  our 
confidence.  Prejudices,  honestly  entertained,  have  been 
swept  away,  and  since  we  have  been  in  this  department, 
and  especially  since  we  have  been  fighting  and  facing  the 
foe,  we  recognize  in  Lieutenant  D.  B.  Foster  a  man  whom 
we  can  trust,  a  friend  who  sympathizes  with  us,  and  an 
officer  prompt  and  fearless  in  the  discharge  of  duty.  For 
tunately,  good  sense  and  patriotism  kept  him  from  throw 
ing  up  his  commission  when  the  authorities  refused  him 
promotion,  and  preserved  him  to  us  and  to  the  working  out 
for  himself  a  place  in  the  respect  and  confidence  of  the 
whole  regiment.  May  he  long  live  to  preserve  and  enjoy 
what  he  has  so  fairly  gained,  is  the  unanimous  wish  of 
the  members  of  Co.  C. 

I  see  that  Orderly  Tuttle  has  agnin  stolen  away  from 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  317 

the  hospital  to  take  his  place  in  the  presence  of  danger, 
though  his  wound  of  the  27th  is  scarcely  healed.  We, 
who  charged  under  his  lead  on  that  fatal  day,  ask  no 
better  leader  if  we  are  destined  to  form  another  "forlorn 
hope."  Some  of  the  convalescents  came  up  to  guard  an 
ammunition  train,  expecting  to  return  the  next  day,  but 
they  find  themselves  in  for  the  remainder  of  the  cam 
paign.  Night  and  day  have  Ordnance-Sergeants  Cowles 
and  Hulet  gone  with  wagons  to  Baton  Rouge,  running 
the  gantlet  of  guerrillas.  They  are  safe  as  yet,  but  it  is 
quite  probable  that  death  or  imprisonment  will  prevent 
their  returning  with  us  to  Berkshire.  Those  trips  have 
none  of  the  excitement  of  the  battle-field,  but  are  ac 
companied  with  danger  and  suspense,  very  far  from 
being  agreeable. 

Mules  and  darkeys  are  so  abundant  that  nearly  every 
man  rides  and  keeps  his  waiter.  Dave  takes  care  of 
Mr.  Brewster's  horse,  and  has  a  contraband  to  do  the 
work  for  him.  Several  wait  on  our  department,  and  as 
we  are  as  lazy  as  those  "  to  the  manner  born,"  it  is  in 
perfect  harmony  to  have  your  coffee  brought  to  you 
before  rising.  Food,  with  a  little  tobacco,  is  considered 
by  them  an  ample  equivalent  for  their  services.  A 
recent  order  commanding  the  turning  over  of  mules  and 
contrabands  to  Colonel  Hodge  will  throw  us  back  on  our 
own  dignity  and  muscles,  or  lead  to  explorations  of  the. 
adjacent  plantations.  An  army  is  a  great  cormorant. 
We  have  swallowed  up  all  the  green  corn  for  fod 
der,  and  rails  are  becoming  as  scarce  as  Union  men  in 
Charleston. 

Nearly  every  evening  Uncle  Sam  gets  up  on  the  left, 
for  our  benefit,  a  pyrotechnic  display,  that  puts  to  shame 
every  former  specimen  of  that  art  we  have  ever  seen. 
Sitting  on  the  top  of  the  earthworks  that  conceal  and  pro 
tect  our  batteries,  we  spend  many  of  our  evening  hours 
watching  the  course  and  bursting  of  the  shells.  At  night 
we  can  see  the  path  of  a  shell  through  all  its  journey, 


318  LIFE   WITH   TTIK    FORTY-NINTH 

lighted  as  it  is  by  the  burning  fuze.  When  the  range  is 
two  miles,  the  track  of  a  shell  from  a  mortar  describes 
very  lu-arly  half  the  arc  of  a  circle.  On  leaving  the  mor 
tar  it  gracefully  moves  on,  climbing  up  and  up  into  the 
heavens  till  it  is  quite  a  mile  above  tin-  earth,  and  then  it 
glides  along  for  a  moment  apparently  in  a  horizontal  line  ; 
but  quickly  you  see  that  the  little  fiery  orb  is  on  the  home 
stretch,  describing  the  other  segment  of  the  circle.  A 
shell  from  a  mortar  will  travel  two  miles  in  thirty  seconds, 
and  from  a  Parrott  gun  in  half  that  time.  The  flash  of 
the  gun  at  night,  and  the  white  smoke  by  day,  indicat< 
the  moment  of  discharge,  giving  from  ten  to  twenty 
seconds  to  seek  shelter.  Though  occasionally  driven 
from  our  posts  of  observation  by  stray  bullets,  we  return 
to  gaze  on  the  fascinating  scene.  The  other  evening  there 
was  a  large  fire  in  rebeldom,  which  drew  a  number  of 
Holcomb's  men  to  the  walls,  when  they  were  greeted  by 
the  balls  of  the  rebels,  sending  some  to  the  hospital  and 
some  to  the  burial. 

R.  II.  Wilcox,  whose  Testament  saved  his  life  at  the, 
battle  of  Plain's  Store,  has  been  less  fortunate  here, 
having  received  a  bullet  in  the  fleshy  part  of  his  leg 
Binding  the  sacred  word  on  our  hearts  is  Scriptural,  and 
Wilcox  obeyed  tJlat  •  but  this  time  the  rebels  aimed 
lower,  so  the  good  fellow  will  have  to  limp  for  a  few  days, 
regretting  that  the  Bible  Society  did  not  give  him  more 
than  one  shield.  On  picket,  one  man  is  detailed  to  spend 
two  hours  up  a  tree,  and  then  he  must  needs  report  to 
Colonel  Paine.  Billy  Ilogan,  a  waggish  Irishman,  of 
Company  H,  spent  his  two  hours  in  the  tree,  and  on  com 
ing  down  went  to  sleep.  The  officer  of  the  picket  waked 
him,  asking,  "  Have  you  made  your  report,  yet?" 
"  Report,  is  it !  and  sure  I  saw  nothing  to  report." 
"No  matter  about  that,"  said  the  oilk-er,  "go  and  re 
port  to  Colonel  Paine;"  and  Billy  drew  up  before  head 
quarters  in  the  position  of  the  soldier,  saluting  the 
Colonel,  and  told  him  his  business. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  319 

c'  Well,  go  ahead,  report !"  gruffly  responded  the  Acting 
Brigadier. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  was  over  in  the  tree  fornenst  and  I  saw, 
I  saw,  sir,  two  birds  fly  into  the  fort,  and  soon  after,  1 
saw  two  fly  out.  I  think,  sir,  the  two  that  flew  out  were 
pigeons,  and  I  am  not  certain,  sir,  that  the  two  that  flew 
in  were  pigeons  or  hawks,  but  I  think  they  was  hawks." 

You  need  not  make  any  further  report,  said  his  excel 
lency,  and  Billy  left  him.  He  often  says,  "  By  jabers  ! 
they  didn't  report  any  more  from  that  tree."  To  see  and 
hear  Billy  describe  this  scene  would  drive  the  blues  and 
dyspepsia  from  you  for  one  long  day  at  least. 

The  rebels  are  gathering  in  large  force  near  Donaldson- 
ville,  and  have  made  considerable  progress.  On  the  28th 
ult.,  they  attacked  Fort  Butler  near  that  village  in  over 
powering  numbers,  but  were  gallantly  repulsed  by  the 
small  garrison,  even  the  sick  lending  their  feeble  help. 
It  was  one  of  the  most  heroic  actions  of  the  war,  and  re 
sulted  in  the  killing,  wounding,  and  capturing  of  twice  as 
many  rebels  as  there  were  soldiers  in  the  fort.  The 
appearance  of  two  gunboats  effectually  secured  us  the 
victory.  Unless  we  take  Port  Hudson  soon,  these  men 
under  General  Taylor  will  appear  at  our  rear,  and  compel 
the  abandonment  of  the  siege.  The  Lafourche  andTeche 
countries  are  full  of  gathering  foes.  Some  sneered  at 
Banks's  generalship,  asking  why  overrun  the  Teche 
country  only  to  leave  it  ?  Suppose  he  had  allowed  Gen 
eral  Taylor  to  remain  there  undisturbed,  how  could  we 
have  invested  Port  Hudson?  Banks's  generalship  is  that 
of  genius  and  common  sense  united. 

I  close  this  with  a  list  of  those  who  have  died  away 
from  the  scene  of  strife. 

George  W.  Babbitt  (B),  aged  thirty-one  years,  a 
farmer  from  New  Ash  ford,  died  of  heart  disease  at  the 
General  Hospital,  Baton  Rouge,  June  18th.  He  was  an 
intelligent  man,  and,  understanding  the  duties  of  a  soldier, 
performed  them  well. 


320  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

George  Campbell  (K),  aged  eighteen  years,  from  Mount 
Washington,  died  of  diarrha'a  at  Hat  on  Rouge,  June  19th. 
He  leaves  a  brother  in  Company  E.  George  was  too 
weak  to  do  all  the  duties  of  a  soldier,  but  he  was  a  steady, 
pleasant,  willing  boy. 

Thomas  Mallaly  (E),  a  farmer  boy  from  Egremont, 
died  in  Xew  Orleans,  June  26th,  aged  eight  ecu  years.  I 
know  not  the  cause  of  his  death,  nor  aught  concerning 
him  as  ;i  man  or  soldier. 

W.  Joyner  (A),  a  stone-cutter  from  Savoy,  aged 
eighteen  years,  died  of  diarrhoea  at  Baton  Kongo,  June 
30th.  As  he  was  sick  much,  he  had  not  the  opportunity 
to  wrin  distinction  as  a  soldier. 

William  W.  Stowell  (C),  was  a^ fanner  lad  from  Peru. 
Early  on  reaching-  Secessia,  diarrhoea  claimed  him  for  a 
victim,  and- clung  to  its  prey  till  death  released  him  at 
Baton  Rouge,  June  30th.  A  fine  steady  lad  he  was, 
willing  to  do  what  his  strength  would  permit.  He  only 
wanted  health  and  strength  to  prove,  as  many  of  our 
living  and  our  dead  have  proved,  that  on  our  battle 
fields  the  farmer  boys  of  Berkshire  are  worthy  sons  of 
noble  sires.  His  long,  weary  struggle  with  the  great 
enemy  is  ended,  and  he  sleeps  with  his  brother  soldiers, 
who,  like  him,  fought  back  disease,  that  they  might  die 
at,  home.  A  mother's  care  was  not  his  solace,  but  amid 
comrades,  too  sick  to  think  of  aught  but  themselves,  he 
closed  the  weary  round  of  life. 

Charles  Videtto  (A),  died  of  quick  consumption,  at  the 
cam])  in  Baton  Rouge,  July  6th.  His  Captain  says,  "he 
was  one  of  the  nicest  of  boys,"  (he  had  seen  but  eighteen 
years,)  "and  one  of  my  best  soldiers."  Charlie  was  very 
popular  with  his  comrades,  and  steady  and  reliable. 
How  many  mother-:  and  sisters  in  Berkshire  are  anxiously 
awaitiug  for  their  Charlies  to  come,  knowing  not  that 
brother  soldiers  have  laid  their  remains  in  distant  graves. 
Who  can  tell  the  anxiety,  the  hopes  battling  with  fears, 
of  our  homes.  Some  who  expect  to  see  no  more  their 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  321 

Charlie  are  to  be  joyously  disappointed,  while  about 
others,  who  are  now  full  of  hope,  a  great  darkness  is 
gathering. 

"  Charlie  has  come  ! 
"Who  says  that  the  times  are  weary-, 
That  the  graves  of  our  fallen  ones, 
Cast  a  shadow  deep  and  dreary, 
Around  our  hearts  and  homes  ? 
The  sunshine  floating  round  us 
Makes  e'en  the  shadows  bright ; 
We  cannot  dream  of  sorrow, 
Por  Charlie  came  last  night. 

"  Charlie  has  come ! 
Has  come  from  the  field  of  battle, 
Where  death-bolts  quickly  fly, 
Led  by  a  mighty  Sovereign, 
Who  heeds  a  sparrow's  cry. 
One  noble  arm  is  shattered, 
A  deep  scar  seams  the  brow  ; 
We  loved  our  Charlie  always, 
But  we  adore  him  now. 
We  fain  would  praise  the  blessed, 
But  our  lips  with  joy  are  dumb  ! 
God  pity  the  mothers  and  sisters 
Whose  Charlies  never  come  /" 
14* 


322  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-MIXTH 


LETTER    XXXII. 

CAMP  BANKS,  BATON  ROUGE,  LA.,  July  13,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

Glory !  Hallelujah  !  Amen  !  Port  Hudson  is  ours, 
and  the  Mississippi  is  open.  The  Confederacy  is  split  in 
two ;  the  backbone  of  the  rebellion  is  broken ;  Sen 
generally  is  in  a  squeamish  condition.  Hunger,  not  as 
sault,  finished  the  work,  after  forty-six  days'  siege.  On 
the  morning  of  the  7th,  the  fleets  above  and  below 
opened  a  joyous  fire  ;  cheers  began  on  the  right  and 
rolled  in  increasing  volume  to  the  centre,  telling  us  that 
on  the  glorious  4th,  General  Grant  victoriously  entered 
Vicksburg.  Billows  of  rejoicing  surged  to  and  fro  over 
our  whole  army,  awakening  the  curiosity  of  the  rebels, 
who  refused  to  believe  our  report,  till  General  Banks, 
complying  with  the  request  of  General  Gardner,  sent  ID, 
on  the  morning  of  the  8th,  an  official  copy  of  Grant's 
dispatch,  which  informed  them  that  Vicksburg,  and 
31,000  prisoners,  19  generals,  60,000  new  English  rifled 
muskets,  besides  many  pieces  of  artillery  and  considera 
ble  ammunition,  had  fallen  into  our  hands.  On  learning 
this,  Gardner  asked  in  vain  for  twenty-four  hours'  cessa 
tion  of  hostilities,  and  then  requested  the  appointment  of 
commissioners  to  arrange  the  terms  of  the  unconditional 
surrender.  This  was  granted,  and  by  the  middle  of  that 
afternoon,  the  matter  was  settled.  The  men,  but  not  the 
officers,  are  to  be  paroled.  The  commlssiciH-rs  met  outside 
of  the  parapet,  under  the  fly  of  a  tent,  and  several  ham 
pers  of  sparkling  Bordeaux  kept  them  in  good  spirits. 
A  basket  was  sent  to  General  Gardner  within  the  fort, 
containing  such  refreshments  as  rumor  said  were  not 
plentiful  in  that  beleaguered  place. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  3  2  3 

Notwithstanding  our  troops  did  not  formally  enter  the 
place  on  the  8th  inst.,  yet  the  garrison  fully  understood 
that  they  were  to  be  surrendered,  and  accordingly  they 
came  over  the  parapet  in  large  numbers  to  converse  with 
our  men.  All  along  the  right  and  centre  crowds  of  them 
gathered  without  the  works  to  converse  with  and  see  the 
persevering  Yankees,  who  had  at  last  forced  them  to 
surrender. 

They  examined  with  the  deepest  curiosity  the  guns  our 
men  had,  and  their  ammunition,  which  they  averred  they 
•had  feared  much  more  than  the  artillery  brought  to 
bear  against  them.  Now  and  then  they  would,  seek  out 
a  particular  stump  or  log  from  which  they  had  been 
worried  by  our  sharpshooters.  "  This  cussed  hole," 
said  a  keen-eyed,  roughly  dressed  hunter  from  the  wilds 
of  Arkansas,  "  I  have  been  aiming  at  for  the  last  two 
weeks,  to  split  the  Yankee's  head  who  was  always  peep 
ing  out  of  it."  Somebody  had  quite  evidently  been 
watching  that  hole  rather  closely,  for  the  two  logs,  which 
were  a  little  apart,  and  formed  the  aperture,  were  riddled 
with  bullets. 

They  were  not  aware  that  the  place  was  to  be  surren 
dered  until  after  it  was  known  by  our  own  men.  They 
allowed  that  it  was  better  to  be  well  fed  and  prisoners, 
than  to  hold  out  and  starve.  Several  of  the  soldiers 
went  within  the  rebel  works  on  the  first  day.  This  was 
not  prohibited.  Those  who  went  in  returned  with  nu 
merous  trophies  of  their  visit,  such  as  blankets,  canteens, 
belts  with  the  Confederate  States  plate  upon  them,  pistols 
and  the  like.  One  beverage  was  served  out  with  the 
utmost  freedom  by  the  garrison,  as  they  had  it  in  large 
quantities.  It  was  a  light  beer  made  from  corn,  and 
really  much  more  palatable  than  the  river  water. 

Quite  early  in  the  morning  preparations  were  made  for 
the  ceremony,  at  which  all  seemed  deeply  gratified. 

It  may  be  said,  with  truthfulness,  that  all  were  really 
gratified  at  the  stale  of  affairs.  Certainly  our  own  men 


824  LIFE   WITH   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

were,  who  had  so  triumphantly  ended  a  vigorous  and 
shrewdly  planned  campaign.  Tiie  half  famished,  dilapidat 
ed-looking  rebels  most  certainly  were,  for  they  never  gave 
heartier  nian  when  told  l>y  General  Beale  and 

Colonel  Miles  that  soon  they  should  see  their  homes. 

They  appeared  deeply  interested  in  the  ceremony  of 
surrender,  which  was  conducted  l>y  Brigadier-General 
Andrew,  General  Banks' s  chief  of  staff.  The  spot  chosen 
for  the  ceremony  was  an  open  area,  near  the  flag-staff, 
opposite  the  centre  of  the  river  batteries,  and  very  near 
the  bank. 

Along  the  main  street  the  soldiers  composing  the  gar 
rison  were,  drawn  up  in  line,  having  all  their  personal 
l,:i'j-o-age,  arms,  and  equipments  with  them. 

General  Gardner  and  staff,  with  a  numerous  escort, 
occupied  a  position  at  the  right  of  the  line. 

By  7  o'clock  our  troops  marched  into  the  works,  headed 
by  the  brigade  which  had  volunteered,  a  thousand  strong, 
to  storm  the  place  in  the  next  assault.  Colonel  Birge,  oi 
the  13th  Connecticut  regiment,  was  in  command  of  this 
storming  party.  It  was  fitting  that  they  should  lead  the 
way  with  the  flag  of  bloodless  victory,  who  had  volun 
teered  to  do  so  with  bayonet  and  sabre.  Artillery  closed 
in  with  the  infantry,  and  as  the  grand  cortege  swept 
through  the  broad  streets  of  Port  Hudson,  with  the 
errand  old  national  airs  for  the  first  time  in  many  months 
breaking  the  morning  stillness,  the  scene  was  most  im 
pressive  and  soul-stirring.  Never  did  music  sound 
sweeter,  never  did  men  march  with  lighter  step,  or  greater 
rejoicing,  than  our  troops,  as  they  came  into  the^place 
which  had  cost  the  lives  of  many  of  their  gallant  com- 
rtdes.  All  the  sorrow  for  their  losses,  and  all  the  joy 
for  their  present  victory,  came  to  the  mind  at  once  Hut 
every  private  bereavement  was  instantly  forgotten  in  the 
nation's  great  gain,  and  every  man  justly  seemed  proud 
to  have  had  a  part  in  one  of  the  greatest  triumphs  of  the 
war. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  325 

Passing  directly  across  from  the  breast-works  on^the 
land  side  to  the  river  batteries,  the  column  then  inarched 
by  the  right  flank,  and  afterwards  halted  and  fronted  op 
posite  the  rebel  line.  General  Andrew  and  staff  then 
rode  up  to  receive  the  sword  of  the  rebel  commander. 
It  was  proferred  to  General  Andrew  by  General  Gardner, 
with  the  brief  words :  "  Having  thoroughly  defended 
this  position  as  long  as  I  deemed  it  necessary,  I  now  sur 
render  to  you  my  sword,  and  with  it  this  post  and  its 
garrison." 

To  which  General  Andrew  replied :  "  I  return  your  sword 
as  a  proper  compliment  to  the  gallant  commander  of  such 
gallant  troops — conduct  that  would  be  heroic  in  anothei 
cause." 

To  which  General  Gardner  replied,  as  he  returned  his 
sword,  with  emphasis,  into  the  scabbard  :  "  This  is  neither 
time  nor  place  to  discuss  the  cause." 

The  men  then  grounded  their  arms,  not  being  able  to 
stack  them,  since  hardly  one  in  ten  of  their  pieces  had  a 
bayonet  attached.  They  were  mostly  very  rusty  and  of 
old  style.  Quite  a  number  of  the  old  Queen  Bess  pattern 
were  included  among  them,  having  a  bore  half  as  large 
again  as  the  ordinary  musket.  Most  of  the  cartridge 
boxes  were  well  filled,  but  the  scarcity  of  percussion-caps 
was  universal. 

An  officer  of  the  garrison,  in  explanation  of  this  fact, 
remarked,  that  this  very  scarcity  of  caps  was  the  reason 
that  the  men  were  allowed  to  cease  firing  on  the  right 
and  left  for  several  days. 

The  number  of  men  surrendered  is  over  five  thousand. 
Of  these  nearly  four  thousand  are  ready  for  duty.  The 
remainder  are  in  the  hospital  from  sickness  or  wounds. 
There  were  six  thousand  stand  of  arms,  with  full  equip 
ments. 

The  troops  are  some  of  the  best  in  the  Confederate 
service ;  many  of  them  were  at  Fort  Donelson,  and  all 
have  been  at  Port  Hudson  since  the  battle  of  Baton  Rouge. 


326  LIFE    WITH    THE    FOTTTT -NINTH 

At  the  time  of  the  battle  of  the  Plains  there  were  6,1 13 
men  in  the  fort.     Since  tli.it  time  the  loss  has  been  610  in 
killed  and  wounded.     Our  men  who  were  in  the  place 
numbered  about  fifty,  and  the  rebels  say  they  had  every 
facility    for    escape.      Many   officers    owned    line    lie 
Among  them,  Colonel  Stone,  of  the  48th  JVlassachus 
recognize  1  two  which  he  had  lost  in   the  battle  of  the 
Plains. 

The  works  about  this  famous  strong-hold  are  not  of 
such  a  complicated  nature  as  many  have  supposed,  nor 
vet  are  they  ineffective  on  account  of  their  simplicity. 
The  principal  defences  are  on  the  river  side. 

They  comprise  seventeen  separate  embrasures,  mostly 
built  in  an  arc  of  a  circle.  They  are  finely  revetted,  ai.d 
command  all  the  approaches  by  way  of  the  river.  In 
three  of  them  pivot  guns  were  mounted,  which  were  used 
Ix >th  for  front  and  rear.  Two  magazines  are  above  ground, 
one  in  the  rear  of  a  battery  of  eight  and  ten  inch  guns, 
and  below  the  flag-staff,  which  is  raised  in  the  centre  of 
the  works  on  the  river  front.  The  rest  of  the  magazines 
are  under  ground. 

The  land  breast-works  are  built  in  the  ordinary  manner 
on  the  outer  side.  They  extend  in  a  semicircular  direc 
tion  from  river  to  river,  for  a  distance  of  nearly  seven 
miles. 

Inside  they  have  a  narrow  ditch,  with  small  caves  dug 
out  from  it  in  which  the  men  slept  and  sheltered  them 
selves  from  our  tire.  On  the  southern  extremity  they  are 
very  well  built,  but  on  the  northern  end  they  were  not 
built  until  the  recent  investment,  and  hence  are  nothing 
but  rifle-pits. 

There  are  a  few  houses,  a  church,  two  or  three  stores  and 
shops,  and  a  livery-stable,  and  these  originally  constituted 
the  town  of  Port  Hudson. 

These  buildings  are  close  up  to  the  river  batteries, 
separated  from  them  by  a  broad  street.  The  hospitals 
were  in  ravines.  Every  thing  within  the  works  bears 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  827 

ample  proof  of  the  terrific  bombardment  the  place  has 
suffered. 

Great  trees  lie  across  the  roads  and  in  the  area,  felled 
by  solid  shot  and  shell,  buildings  are  riddled  with  round 
shot,  dead  animals  fill  the  air  about  some  of  the  ravines 
with  a  horrid  effluvia,  while  shot  and  fragments  of  shell 
are  strewn  everywhere. 

The  Confederate  officers  report  that  all  our  artillery  fire 
has  not  killed  more  than  twenty-five  men.  "  One  good 
rifle,  I  considered  equal  to  ten  pieces  of  artillery,"  said 
an  artillery  officer  in  commenting  upon  the  effect  of  our 
fire. 

On  speaking  of  the  fight  on  the  27th,  an  officer  said 
that  when  the  attack  was  made  so  vigorously  on  Weit- 
zel's  front,  they  all  thought  that  their  game  was  up.  But 
observing  no  similar  movement  along  other  parts  of  our 
line,  they  moved  up  eleven  pieces  of  artillery  and  two 
large  battalions  of  their  best  troops,  so  that  they  were 
able  to  offer  effectual  resistance  in  that  quarter.  These 
movements  were  seen  by  our  men  at  the  time. 

After  the  ceremony  was  over,  General  Weitzel  was 
presented  with  a  fine  chestnut  stallion  by  a  rebel  officer 
who  was  formerly  his  pupil  at  West  Point. 

The  General  had  several  classmates  and  pupils  among 
the  officers  of  the  garrison,  and  they  all  seemed  glad  to 
revive  the  days  long  gone  by,  when  they  enjoyed  that 
union  of  hearts  and  hands  which  a  strange  fanaticism  has 
now  severed. 

And  not  only  between  a  few  classmates,  but  between 
whole  regiments,  on  the  day  of  the  surrender,  there  was 
a  constant  interchange  of  good  feeling.  Perhaps  they 
have  crossed  bayonets  for  the  last  time.  That  is  not  cer 
tain.  But  no  fears  for  the  future  seemed  to  trouble  these 
heroes  of  many  battles,  as  they  talked  of  the  scenes. in 
which  they  all  had  borne  a  part.  Ere  this  day  closed, 
many  hearts  were  knit  together  in  friendly  bonds,  which 
a  few  hours  before  were  severed  by  the  deepest  enmity. 


328  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

On  the  night  of  the  8th,  General  Banks  sent  in  a  liberal 
supply  of  provisions  for  the  garrison,  mid  early  the  next 
morning  they  enjoyed  the  first  good  meal  they  had  par 
taken  of  for  a  long  time.  On  the  29th  of  June,  they 
issued  their  last  quarter-ration  of  beef.  On  the  1st  of 
July,  some  officers  partook  of  a  dish  of  mule  meat,  which 
they  say,  has  a  flavor  between  beef  and  venison.  Horses 
were  found  to  be  good  eating,  though  inferior  to  mules. 
Hats  were  eaten,  and  declared  better  than  spring  chick 
ens.  We  had  fired  their  mills,  so  they  could  not  grind  the 
fe\v  ears  of  corn  left.  They  had  plenty  of  peas,  but  starv 
ing  men  could  not  use  them,  so,  to  save  the  corn,  they 
fed  their  horses  and  mules  on  the  peas,  by  which  many 
were  killed.  At  the  time  of  the  surrender  they  had 
eaten  their  last  mule. 

Port  Hudson  is  a  natural  fortification,  in  which  one  man 
should  keep  at  bay  ten  men  assaulting  from  without.  It 
is  one  net-work  of  ditches  and  ravines.  The  ground  is 
strewed  with  such  hardware  as  we  poured  into  it  for  two 
months  from  the  8th  of  May,  when  the  fleet  commenced 
the  bombardment.  The  ravages  made  by  shells  is  fearful. 
Houses  are  gutted  and  mammoth  trees  broken  off.  In 
roads  hardened  by  years  of  travel,  you  can  see  caverns 
twelve  or  fifteen  feet  deep,  wider  and  larger  than  ordi 
nary  cellars.  One  of  these  descending  thunderbolts 
struck  an  artillerist  about  the  neck,  and  drove  him 
through  the  wooden  floor  of  the  battery  into  the  ground 
beneath,  leaving  only  his  feet  sticking  out.  Another 
killed  three  men,  and  soon  after  their  burial  still  another 
burst'  in  the  cemetery  and  exploded  among  their  coffins. 
One  afternoon  a  shell  exploded  in  the  river,  causing 
seventy^  or  eighty  fishes  to  rise  to  the  surface  completely 
stunned.  The  rebs  put  out  after  them,  many  of  which 
were  the  largest  sized  catfishes.  Ten  pounds  is  called  a 
sin-ill  fish,  so  that  was  a  lucky  shell  for  them.  Many  of  our 
projectiles  would  strike  the  trees  laterally  instead  of  with 
their  percussion-cnps,  and  consequently  failed  to  explode. 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  329 

Grant  is  sending  troops  here  from  Vicksburg,  and 
many  regiments  have  gone  down  to  Donaldson ville  to 
drive  back  Taylor  and  his  horde.  The  Forty-ninth  went 
on  Friday  night,  the  10th  inst.  This  place,  it  is  said,  is 
to  be  garrisoned  with  negro  troops. 

We  now  bid  farewell  to  Port  Hudson,  with  its  fields  of 
blood  and  graves  of  our  comrades.  When  peace,  of 
which  this  surrender  is  a  speedy  precursor,  shall  settle  on 
the  sunny  South,  it  will  be  a  proud,  yet  sad  pleasure  to 
revisit  that  place,  and  roam  over  Slaughter's  field,  and 
rest  by  what  remains  of  the  burial-places  of  our  brother 
soldiers.  Though  we  think  of  the  slain,  and  of  the  hopes 
interred  with  them,  we  can  but  be  jubilant.  We  are 
victors,  and  mingling  with  our  shouts  are  the  hosannas 
from  the  gory  field  of  Gettysburg,  telling  that  the  God 
of  battles  has  at  last  crowned  the  merited  valor  of  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  with  victory.  This  has  been  a 
grand  year.  It  was  commenced  right.  We  put  God  and 
humanity  on  our  side  and  have  gone  on  from  triumph  to 
triumph.  'The  4th  of  July  has  been  resurrected.  Again 
its  inspired  truths,  all  undiluted,  fall  from  the  lips  of 
America  on  the  ears  of  an  expectant  world.  The  world's 
sympathies  answer  in  prayers  for  our  success.  1863  is 
proving  its  kindredship  to  1776.  The  child  is  nobler  than 
the  parent.  The  glory  of  the  latter  day  is  above  that  of 
the  former.  We  are  interpreting  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  so  that  mankind,  fearing  or  hoping,  believe 
that  "  God  hath  created  all  men  free  and  equal."  The 
sun  of  victory,  so  gilding  our  graves  that  the  glory  hides 
the  grief,  reveals  to  the  world  that  our  flag  is  the  standard 
of  freedom,  imbued  with  power  from  on  high  to  wave 
triumphantly  over  every  foe.  "  Despairing  patriots  dash 
away  their  tears,  and  exultingly  exclaim,  "Liberty  is 
man's  birthright ;  tyrants  have  no  divine  right  to  rule ; 
man  is  capable  of  self-government." 


330  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

"The  dwellers  in  the  vales  and  on  the  rocks 
Shout  to  each  oilier,  and  the  mountain  tops, 
From  distant  mountains,  catch  the  flying  joy; 
Till  nation  after  nation  taught  the  strain, 
Earth  rolls  the  rapturous  hosamia  round." 

It  is  fitting  that  black  hands  should  hold  Port  Hudson. 
There,  those  hands  signed  the  charter  of  the  freedom  of 
their  race.  In  the  future  of  the  Africans,  as  Ethiopia,  who 
has  so  long  stretched  out  her  manacled  hands  to  God,  out 
rivals  the  splendor  of  Egypt  and  Carthage,  gifted  orators 
will  kindle  a  nation's  patriotism  by  allusions  to  Port  Hud 
son,  even  as  ice  gather  inspiration  from  the  recollections  of 
Uniiker  Hill.  The  American  eagle  now  watches  her  shores, 
that  no  vessels  enter  her  harbors,  save  those  freighted 
with  the  blessings  of  civilization,  or  with  the  missionaries 
of  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  Africa,  who  has  so  long  had  her 
Calvary,  now  sees  an  angel  at  the  grave  of  her  former 
renown,  rolling  away  the  stone,  and  preparing  her  for  the 
joy  and  glory  of  the  resurrection.  IZlood,  all  powerful 
blood,  purifies  and  prepares  for  greatness.  The  begin 
ning  of  the  ransom  price  has  been  paid,  and  in  that  purer 
light,  revealing  God's  future  to  our  "  fallen  brave,"  they 
see  no  shame,  but  only  high  honor  in  having  fought,  not 
only  for  their  country,  but  also  for  the  rejected  ncf/ro. 
Could  they  speak  to  loving  friends,  they  would  say,  "  Let" 
our  bodies  lie  on  the  field  of  our  renown,  and  let  the  guar 
dians  of  our  remains  be  the  unfettered  children  of  them 
whose  fathers  mingled  their  blood  with  ours,  and  thus 
bought  the  propitiation  of  <»ir  national  sin  and  the  freedom 
of  t/tair  race.  Loving,  sad,  perchance  disconsolate  mem 
ories  gather  round  the  graves  of  the  comrades  we  are 
leaving ;  but  the  time  will  come  when  the  possessors  of 
such  memories  will  proudly  claim  to  be  the  aristocracy  of 
our  land.  Children,  now  too  young  to  know  aught  but 
that  "  father"  will  never  return  to  them,  will  walk  more 
erectly  through  the  splendor  and  purity  of  our  future,  as 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  331 

they   recognize   that   that   splendor  is   based   on    their 
father's  graves. 

Since  my  return  to  this  place,  I  have  attended  negro 
meetings.  They  were  jubilant  meetings.  Old  hunkers 
might  have  thought  that  politics  had  entered  into  and 
vitiated  their  religion,  but  they  felt  that  the  Gospel  really 
means,  "glad  tidings  of  great  joy  which  shall  be  unto  all 
people."  From  pulpits  where  they  had  often  submis 
sively,  despairingly,  heard  the  old  refrain,  "  Servants  ! 
obey  your  masters  ;"  rang  out  the  grand  truths  of  man's 
equality,  which  were  answered  by  shouts  and  tears  of  joy. 
Now,  they  feel  that  they  are  safe,  and  proudly  recognize 
that  negro  valor  materially  aided  in  the  purchase  of  that 
safety.  Respectful  to  them  who  "  knew  that  Port  Hud 
son  could  never  be  taken,"  and  who  had  often  threatened 
them  with  vengeance,  when  Southern  bravery  had  scat 
tered  our  armies  to  the  wind,  yet  they  firmly  and  openly 
consecrate  themselves  to  our  service,  and  in  their  sanc 
tuary,  take  up  the  mingled  song  of  piety  and  joy,  as  did 
the  Israelites  when  Gcrd  had  led  them  through  the  Red  Sea 
"  The  enemy  said,  I  will  -  pursue,  I  will  overtake,  I  will 
divide  the  spoil ;  my  lust  shall  be  satisfied  upon  them  ;  I 
will  draw  my  sword,  my  hand  shall  destroy  them.  Thou 
stretchedst  out  thy  right  hand,  the  earth  swallowed  them. 
Thou,  in  thy  mercy,  hast  led  forth  the  people  which  thou 
hast  redeemed.  Sing  ye  to  the  Lord,  for  he  hath  tri 
umphed  gloriously  ;  the  horse  and  his  rider  hath  he 
thrown  into  the  sea. 

Soon  we  come  home,  and  may  meet  those  cradled  in 
the  shadow  of  Bunker  Hill,  who  will  call  all  this  only 
the  outpourings  of  a  fanatical  heart ;  but  if  this  letter 
shall  be  read  fifty  years  from  now,  the  only  surprise  and 
mortification  will  be  that,  ever,  any  of  the  sons  of 
Massachusetts  were  so  untrue  to  their  ancestry  as  to 
fail  in  doing  all  they  could  to  make  our  hopes  the  world's 
fruition.  If  nothing  more,  we  have  gained  the  right  to 
boldly  speak  of  Freedom.  The  war  is  not  yet  over,  and 


332  LIFE    WITH   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

the  hungry  cemeteries  will  swallow  up  more  of  our 
brothers  and  sons,  but  we  are  moving  on  to  a  peace 
in  which  we  may  alnde.  Fresh  demands  on  our  parriot- 
JMII  will  be  made;  and  we  can .  make  them,  being 
•i red  that  we  or  our  race  shall  receive  therefor  a 
hundred-fold.  We  have  fallen  on  grand  times.  The 
days  of  heroism,  of  Christian  chivalry,  have  returned. 

'•  We  are  living,  we  are  dwelling 
In  a  grand  and  awful  time  1 
In  an  age  on  ages  telling,  . 

To  be  living  is  sublime  I 

"  Will  ye  play,  then,  will  ye  dally 

With  your  music  and  your  wine? 
Up !  It  is  Jehovah's  rally  ! 

God's  own  arm  hath  need  of  thine  I 

"  Worlds  are  charging,  heaven  beholding, 

Thou  hast  but  an  hour  to  fight ; 

Xow  the  blazoned  cross  unfolding, 

On,  right  onward,  for  the  right ! 

"  On  !  let  all  the  soul  within  you, 

For  the  truth's  sake  go  abroad ; 
Strike  1  let  every  nerve  and  sinew 
Tell  on  ages,  tell  for  God  ! " 

Samuel  H.  Rossiter  (B),  died  at  the  hospital  in  this 
place  July  9th.  He  was  severely  wounded  in  the  lungs 
in  the  first  charge  at  Port  Hudson.  For  a  while  we 
indulged  the  fond  hope  of  his  recovery.  Though  only  a 
corporal,  he  was  qualified  for,  and  worthy  of  a  high 
position.  The  man,  the  Christian,  in  him  was  so  noble 
tint  rank  would  have  been  but  gilding  gold.  Tall  in 
stature,  lie  was  taller  in  jvorth  ;  and,  in  our  estimation,  a 
purer,  better  soldier  never  enlisted.  Duty  led  him  to 
the  field  :  "  What  does  duty  require  at  my  hand  ?"  w.i- 
his  life-question.  There  were  but  three  sons  in  his 
father's  house.  Two  of  them  joined  the  Forty-ninth. 
Samuel  felt  that  then  he  must  enlist.  His  country 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  333 

needed  his  services,  and  he  wanted  to  watch  over  his 
younger  brothers.  He  saw  the  bright,  genial  Willie  laid 
in  his  lonely  grave  at  Carrollton,  and  for  months  the  other 
brother  has  been  fighting  a  doubtful  battle  with  disease. 
Really  unable  to  travel,  he  yet  marched  with  us  to  Port 
Hudson.  Advised,  almost  commanded  to  remain  behind, 
yet  he  went.  Duty  called  him,  and  that  was  enough. 
A  part  of  our  terribly- shattered  left,  he  charged  on  the 
foe,  and  there  received  his  death-wound.  On  coming 
from  the  field,  I  saw  him  walking  towards  the  hospital, 
supported  by  two  of  his  comrades,  and  thought  he  was 
one  of  the  "  slightly  wounded."  He  was  conveyed  to 
the  hospital  at  Baton  Rouge,  where  his  remaining  brother 
lay  sick.  The  love  his  fellow-soldiers  bore  him  secured 
for  him  especial  attention.  He  met  his  death  as  a 
Christian.  I  saw  him  a  few  days  before  he  died,  when 
the  wound  had  recommenced  bleeding.  A  sweet  smile, 
mingled  with  the  look  of  pain,  assured  me  that  for  him 
death  had  no  terrors.  A  disarmed  conqueror  was  ap 
proaching.  It  was  a  sad  scene.  *  Willie  was  gone, 
Abraham  was  sick,  and  he  was  dying.  Perchance  the 
old  homestead  was  to  be  desolate  indeed,  and  the  aged 
parents  were  to  go  down  to  the  grave  with  no  sons  to 
lean  upon.  I  was  glad  then,  that  before  going  he  had 
married  the  woman  of  his  affections.  A  stranger,  I  had 
no  right  to  intermeddle  with  that  grief,  but  I  prized  for 
her  the  melancholy  pleasure  of  a  sorrow  that  would  be 
respected.  As  his  weeping  comrades  gathered  about 
his  death-bed,  he  said,  "  Mourn  not.  I  shall  be  home  in 
a  few  moments ;"  and,  in  his  twenty-seventh  year,  he  was 
not,  for  God  took  him.  Placed  in  a  decent  coffin,  he 
was  followed  to  his  grave  by  a  long  procession.  No 
regiment  is  privileged  to  boast  of  many  Samuel  Ros- 
siters.  Cheerful  and  amiable,  he  was  also  an  earnest 
Christian.  Richmond,  in  temporal  and  spiritual  affairs, 
will  long  miss  him.  Though  young,  even  God's  people 
had  learned  to  lean  and  rely  on  him.  He  is  dead! 


334  LIFE    WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

Home,  the  church,  the  Sunday-school,  his  company  will 
greet  him  no  more,  nor  receive  .from  him  the  genial 
smile.  We  mourn  him,  yet  are  richer  in  his  death  than 
in  the  lives  of  many.  He  was  one  of  the  untitled  brave, 
a  Christian  man.  It  is  superfluous  to  say  he  was  one  of 
our  best  soldiers.  Duty,  though  ever  so  dangerous  or 
repugnant,  he  never  shunned.  A  wealth  of  precious 
memories  gather  round  his  life  and  death.  "Faithful 
unto  death,  he  has  received  the  crown  of  life."  ]\I:iy 
we  imitate  him.  God  and  our  country  will  then  say, 
"  Well  done !" 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  335 


LETTER    XXXIII. 

DOXALDSONVILLE,  July  20,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

On  Friday  morning  following  the  surrender  of  Port 
Hudson,  we  reached  this  place,  which  was  once  one  of 
some  beauty  and  importance,  but  now  it  is  war-wrecked. 
That  same  day  our  brigade  went  up  the  river  about  five 
miles,  on  a  reconnoissance,  arresting  all  overseers  and 
such  persons  as  would  be  likely  to  give  us  information 
of  the  strength  and  whereabouts  of  the  enemy.  On  the 
following  Sunday,  with  the  2d  Louisiana,  we  went  up 
to  McCall's  plantation,  about  three  miles  distant,  and 
secured  a  boat-load  of  corn.  Our  associates,  the  Sec 
ond  Louisiana,  well  acquainted  with  the  neighborhood, 
pilfered  a  considerable  quantity  of  jewelry. 

On  the  morning  of  the  13th  several  brigades  marched 
along  the  Bayou  La  Fourche  into  the  interior.  It  is  a 
beautiful  and  rich  country.  We  proceeded  on  the  upper 
side  of  the  Bayou  for  three  miles,  and*  then  bivouacked 
and  dined.  It  was  the  hottest,  sultriest  day  we  had  ex 
perienced  in  Louisiana.  After  dinner,  we  went  down  the 
Bayou,  on  the  other  side  of  which  there  was  some  firing  and 
much  confusion.  We  jumped  on  the  levee  to  survey  the 
scene,  but  the  blasphemous  commands  of  Colonel  Paine 
drove  us  down.  Horses,  teams,  ambulances,  fugitives, 
passed  by  as  rapidly  as  fear  could  move  them,  ejaculating, 
"  The  rebs !  the  rebs  !"  Our  friends  across  the  Bayou 
were  evidently  flanked,  and  retreating,  as  best  they  could, 
before  a  superior  force.  Soon,  the  battery  accompanying 
our  brigade  opened  fire,  telling  us  that  the  enemy  was 
not  confined  to  the  other  side  of  the  stream.  We  were 
drawn  up  in  battle  line  on  a  road  running  from  the 


336  LIFE    WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

JV-iyou,  and  thence  our  regiment  was  sent  diagonally 
through  a  cane-field.  Co.  C.  was  thrown  out  as  skir 
mishers,  and  found  that,  instead  of  a  friendly  battery, 
located  at  an  adjacent  sugar-house,  there  was  a  large 
collection  of  rebels,  mounted  and  on  foot.  While  ma 
king  these  movements  we  could  hear  the  roar  of  artil 
lery,  the  rushing  tramp  of  many  fugitives,,  while  around 
us  bullets  wore  flying  with  much  disregard  of  life  and 
limb.  Through  the  rows  of  cane  could  be  seen  squads 
of  enemies,  how  many  we  could  not  tell,  save  that  they 
were  on  three  sides  of  us.  Amid  all  the  confusion,  only 
one  thins  was  certain,  AVC  were  flanked  on  nearly  every 
hand.  There  we  were  alone,  and  of  our  own  regiment 
wre  could  see  but  few  at  a  time,  as  it  was  impossible  to 
keep  a  good  line.  We  returned  the  fire  as  best  we  could 
till  ordered  to  fall  back  to  the  road.  There  we  found 
that  our  brigade  had  fallen  back  to  the  Bayou  road,  and 
crossing  the  fence,  we  formed  three  times,  when  Adjutant- 
General  Webber  ordered  us  to  retreat.  This  we  did  for 
some  rods,  when  we  again  formed  a  line,  and,  for  a  short 
distance,  fell  back  in  tolerable  order.  In  the  mean  time, 
the  enemy  was  pressing  yet  closer  on  our  lone  regiment 
and  pouring  scattered  volleys  into  our  ranks.  The  road 
on  either  side  of  *he  Bayou  was  crowded  with  fugitives, 
and  we  were  convinced,  that  we  could  do  nothing  but 
secure  our  own  safety.  When  the  final  order  to  retreat 
r.imc,  every  man  started  for  the  river.  Confusion  be 
came  worse  confounded.  Every  attempt  to  keep  in  line 
failed,  and  in  squads  or  alone,  we  pressed  to  the  rear.  It 
was  a  day  of  utter  exhaustion.  Pressing  through  corn 
ten  feet  high,  the  sun  pouring  down  on  us,  unable  to 
catch  a  mouthful  of  air,  was  bad  enough,  but  we  found 
scratching  our  way  through  the  cane-fields  tenfold  worse. 
Cane  grows  about  seven  feet  high,  and  is  planted,  not 
like  corn,  in  hills,  but  in  rows,  presenting,  when  grown, 
an  almost  impenetrable  jungle.  Four  miles,  measured 
by  rod*;,  forty,  as  computed  by  discomfort  and  fatigue, 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  337 

passed  over  and  we  reached  the  river,  some  near  the  fort, 
at  Donaldsonville  and  the  rest  scattered  over  miles. 
Bradley  (F),  was  killed,  Adjutant  Francis  wounded  in 
the  leg,  many  were  slightly  wounded,  some  sun-struck, 
and  not  a  few  are  recorded  as  "  missing."  Whether 
they  are  prisoners,  or  lying  in  some  of  the  deep  ditches 
that  surround  and  intersect  those  large  fields,  we  know  not. 

It  was  a  sad  day.  Surprised  and  flanked,  we  could  do 
nothing  but  retreat.  I  do  not  know  that  any  one  was  to 
blame.  Dudley's  brigade  had  felt  the  ground  but  the 
day  before,  and  found  but  few  enemies.  We  have  since 
learned  the  foe  was  a  part  of  General  Taylor's  army, 
gathered  in  Western  Louisiana  and  Texas,  some  12,000 
strong,  for  the  relief  of  Port  Hudson.  Since  the  fight,  we 
have  heard  nothing  of  them,  save  that  they  captured 
Brash  ear  City,  with  most  of  its  defenders,  and  destroyed 
a  vast  quantity  of  stores,  which  the  sudden  appearance  of  a 
part  of  our  army  prevented  them  from  removing.  Consid 
ering  all  the  circumstances,  the  Forty-ninth  did  well.  For 
coolness,  for  obedience  of  orders,  for  forming  again  and 
again  when  left  alone,  they  deserve  much  credit.  That 
officers  got  separated  from  their  men,  and  that  nearly  all 
returned  in  utter  confusion,  might  be  expected  as  the 
result  of  being  flanked  on  all  sides  in  "a  strange  country, 
and  was  unavoidable  when  retreating  through  the  luxuri 
ant  cane  and  corn-fields  of  the  La  Fourche  country.  Great 
credit  is  given  to  CharFee,  Sissons,  and  Dresser  for  coolness, 
and  steadiness  in  managing  and  keeping  together  their 
men.  I  mention rf.1i em  especially  because,  though  they  did 
well  in  the  battle  of  June  14th,  they,  being  absent  from  the 
field  of  May  27th,  had  not  before  had  an  opportunity  to 
show  their  command  over  men,  when  personal  influence 
was  nearly  every  thing.  They  are  earnest  lovers  of  Free 
dom.  Had  they  flinched,  they  would  have  been  the  first 
recreants  of  that  class  in  the  Forty-ninth. 

Since  the  battle,  we  have  had  nothing  more  exciting 
than  picket  duty,  unenlivened  by  the  presence  of  a  foe. 
15 


LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

We  are  encamped  in  an  open  field,  and  to  the  discomforts 
of  actual  war  we  have  now  supcradded  the  monotony  of 
camp  life.  The  continued  mugginess  of  the  wi-aMu-r  has 
quickened  mosquito*  into  life,  and  having  no  other  m-my 
to  fight,  we  battle  with  them,  wondering  why  we  are  not 
sent  home,  thereby  comforting  us  and  relieving  Uncle 
Sam  of  the  expense  of  our  maintenance.  The  cam})  at 
Baton  Rouge  is  characterized  by  a  dreary  monotony,  and 
a  heat  even  worse  than  that  that  assails  our  boys  at  Don- 
aldsonville,  for  they  do  get  an  occasional  breeze  from  off 
the  river.  Our  sick  are  failing  rapidly.  "Hope  deferred 
maketh  the  heart  sick."  About  the  only  question  of  in 
terest  is,  "  When  will  we  start  for  home?"  and  how — by 
sea  or  up  the  river  ?  Curiosity  desires  the  latter,  health 
the  former. 

Our  total  loss  on  the  13th  inst.  stands,  one  killed,  five 
wounded,  and  sixteen  missing.  Among  the  latter  are 
some  of  our  very  best  soldiers.  Where  are  they?  we 
often  ask  with  painful  solicitude. 

Alone  among  the  dead  stands  the  name  of  Edward  R. 
Bradley  (F),  of  Stockbridge.  He  was  a  farmer,  and 
twenty-seven  years  of  age.  He  leaves  parents  and  wife 
to  mourn  him.  We  might  have  lost  scores,  whose  united 
loss  would  have  been  less  of  a  calamity  than  that  of  him 
who  lies  here  in  the  lonely  grave  where  his  comrades 
buried  him.  He  was  an  educated  Christian  soldier. 
"  Death  loves  a  shining  mark."  He  found  that  mark  in 
Edward  R.  Bradley.  At  home,  he  was  known  as  the 
beloved  son,  the  affectionate  hu-band,  the  friend  of  the 
poor,  the  earnest  member  of  the  church  of  Christ.  In 
the  army,  we  knew  him  as  a  soldier  ever  faithful,  one  to 
be  relied  on  in  camp  or  in  field — one  who  everywhere 
showed  that  he  was  "  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ." 
Oh,  for  legions  of  just  such  men  !  He  wore  the  armor  of 
his  country  ;  beneath  that,  he  was  clothed  in  the  panoply 
of  God.  Richer  blood  has  not  dyed  this  soil.  Earthly 
!i»me  will  know  him  no  more  forever  "  In  my  Father's 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  339 

house  are  many  mansions.  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for 
you,  that  where  2  am  there  ye  may  be  also."  From  the 
field  of  strife,  fighting  for  God  and  Freedom,  he  has  been 
ushered  into  those  mansions.  The  Prince  of  Peace  has 
received  him,  and,  resting  on  His  bosom,  he  sees  how  his 
dying  blood  was  necessary  to  that  hour  when  wars  and 
rumors  of  war  shall  forever  cease.  We  leave  him  alone 
•with  his  glory. 

Samuel  G.  Noble  (A),  aged  twenty-three  years,  clerk 
from  Pittsfield,  died  in  the  hospital  at  Baton  Rouge,  of 
congestive  fever,  on  the  14th  inst.  Illy  prepared  were 
we  to  hear  this  sad  news.  Young  Noble  looked  so  well 
and  fleshy  but  a  few  days  before,  that  we  had  no  doubts 
but  that  he  would  be  one  of  those  who  should  soon  return 
to  glad  expectant  hearts.  Even  in  the  freshness  of  sor 
row,  those  hearts  will  be  comforted  by  knowing  that 
"  their  loss  is  his  eternal  gain."  I  knew  him  well,  and 
never  saw  or  heard  any  thing  inconsistent  with  his  Chris 
tian  profession.  His  happy  face  carried  sunshine  with 
him,  and  no  doubt  comforted  many  of  the  sick  and 
wounded  with  whom  his  duties,  as  a  member  of  the  am 
bulance  corps,  brought 'him  in  contact.  That  face  was 
but  the  exponent  of  a  kind  heart  and  genial  spirit,  which 
led  him  to  easily  win  the  love  and  esteem  of  his  comrades. 
Carefully  tended,  death  met  him,  and  we  leave  his  grave 
to  the  care  of  strangers,  believing  that  the  All-Father  has 
received  him  into  his  home. 

David  Winchell  (I),  aged  nineteen  years,  of  Lanesboro', 
was  drowned  in  the  Mississippi  River,  while  bathing,  on 
the  15th  inst.  He  could  not  swim,  and  getting  beyond 
his  depth,  where  there  was  none  to  help  him,  found  his 
last  battle-field  in  the  treacherous  waters.  His  body  was 
recovered  and  decently  interred.  He  was  a  genial,  kind 
boy,  prompt  and  efficient  as  a  soldier,  and  as  a  comrade 
liked  by  all.  His  captain  places  him  among  the  very 
best  of  his  company.  The  brave-hearted  lad  joined  the 
"  forlorn  hope"  of  May  27th,  but,  by  his  company  being 


340  LIFE   WITH    THE   FORTY-NINTH 

ordered  to  the  rear  before  that  battle  commenced,  he  wns 
not  allowed  to  share  its  danger  and  its  glory.  He  vai 
au  only  son.  Spared  by  shot  and  shell,  the  river,  opened 
to  the  world  by  his  toil  and  exposure,  folded  him  in  the 
embrace  of  death,  and  by  its  banks  the  daily  expected 
son  sleeps  his  last  sleep.  There  will  be  weary  waiting  for 
him. 

Artemus  R.  Comstock  (D),  aged  nineteen  years,  a  far 
mer  boy  from  Barrington,  died  on  the  1 8th  inst.,  at  Baton 
Rouge,  after  a  long  illness  of  diarrhoea.  A  fine  boy  he 
was,  and  while  well  a  faithful  soldier.  He  came  from  a 
good  stock,  and  was  much  of  a  favorite  with  officers  and 
men.  When  I  say  he  was  considered  one  of  the  most 
likely  of  Company  D,  I  use  strong  language,  for  that  is 
a  company  to  belong  to  which  any  man  might  well  be 
proud.  The  lad,  with  his  high  hopes,  his  patriotic*  aspi 
rations,  now  sleeps  in  a  Southern  grave.  We  will  soon 
leave  it,  but  wrill  carry  with  us  the  recollections  of  the 
many  virtues  of  our  buried  comrade. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  341 


LETTER     XXXIV. 

CAMP  BANKS,  BATON  ROUGE,  LA., 

August  2,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L.  : 

Yesterday,  about  sundown,  the  regiment  returned  to 
camp,  after  a  campaign  of  seventy-three  days.  We  have 
seen  more  real  war-work  than  some  regiments  who  have 
been  years  in  the  service.  Eventful  days  were  they. 
Looking  back  over  them,  remembering  our  slain  and 
wounded,  we  claim  the  right  to  be  called  "  veterans,"  and 
mournfully  smile  at  our  prophecy  that  the  Forty-ninth 
would  return  home  an  untried  regiment.  We  have  been 
tried,  and  not  found  wanting.  Seventy-three  such  days 
try  soul  and  body,  and  give  us  an  experience  and  crowd 
us  with  such  memories  that  we  will  never  feel  as  young 
again  as  before.  Living  on  the  verge  of  the  grave,  be 
coming  conversant  with  wounds  and  death, — years  were 
packed  in  that  period.  Crowded  with  exposures  and 
privations,  darkened  with  a  cloud  that  all  the  brightness 
of  A7ictory  cannot  fully  dispel — a  cloud  that  thickens  as 
we  think  of  the  sad  hour,  when  expectant  friends,  through 
tear-blinded  eyes,  shall  behold  ominous  gaps  in  ranks, 
where  once,  in  the  pride  of  manly  strength  stood  their 
loved  ones,  we  will  ever  remember  that  camjpaign  as  the 
brightest  and  saddest  part  of  our  lives.  Stepping  into 
the  glory  of  our  country's  future,  made  possible  by  our 
success,  the  sadness  will  depart,  and  we  will  reverently 
thank  God  for  having  vouchsafed  strength  and  courage 
to  do  our  duty,  that  our  deeds  might  be  a  portion  of  the 
nation's  wealth,  of  the  world's  pride.  Little  matters  it 
that  our  names  will  be  forgotten.  Happy  we,  lured  by 
r,o  meed  of  fame,  to  have  advanced  the  world  one  step 


•T12  LIFE   WITH   TIIE    FOETY-N'TNTII 

nearer  to  its  hc:ivcnl\  bridegroom!  Enfram-hiM-d  hu 
manity,  ever  mounting  higher,  will  often  pause  to  render 
thanks  to  the  "unnamed  demi-gods,"  on  whose  toils  and 
sufferings  and  deaths,  the  grand  temple  of  universal  free 
dom  was  based.  God  has  a  purpose  in  this  war,  and 
when,  hasten*  <l  !>]/  it,  heaven  and  earth  shall  vibrate  to 
the  jubilant  strain,  "Hallelujah!  the  Kingdoms  of  this 
world  are  become  the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and  of  his 
Christ,"  "  honor  shall  be  given  to  whom  honor  is  due." 

Do  you  call  this  egotism?  Be  it  so,  though  I  speak 
of  myself  as  only  one  of  the  multitude ;  yet,  personally, 
I  am  prouder  of  the  last  seventy-three  days  than  of  any 
other  part  of  my  existence,  and  of  my  pride  no  one  shall 
bereave  me.  It  is  worth  much  to  meet  friends  again, 
conscious  that  for  them  you  took  your  life  in  your  hands, 
•md,  as  flair  representative,  stood  in  the  valley  of  death. 
It  is  yet  true,  "  all  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his 
/{/;."  Duty,  at  home,  seemed  so  safe  and  conducive  to 
prosperity,  that  many  knew  not  it  was  the  outworking 
of  a  higher  power ;  duty  done,  where  death  barred  the 
way,  and  where,  in  doing  it,  life  was  to  be  valued  only 
as  an  empty  bubble,  reaches  man's  heart  and  brings  him 
to  realize  that  there  is  something  stronger,  sweeter,  than 
the  love  of  life.  To  count  myself  out  in  speaking  of  our 
just  pride,  would  be  only  an  affectation  of  humility  you 
would  despise.  '  That  I  might  not  be  counted  out  in  the 
joyous  consciousness  of  having  done  something  to  ad 
vance  the  world's  best  interests,  I  left  home,  friends,  all  ; 
and  now,  danger  past,  as  I  think  of  returning  to  home 
an  1  loved  ones,  I  magnify  the  grace  that  enabled  me  to 
do  my  duty. 

Proudly  we  will  return.  Rich  are  they  who  have  gar 
ments  torn  by  shot  and  shell ;  yet  richer  they  who  bear 
in  their  bodies,  honorable,  but  not  disabling  or  disfiguring 
scars.  The  former  will  cherish  their  mementos  of  this 
campaign,  even  as  war-tattered  banners  are  cherished, 
and  from  the  fringed  bullet  edges,  impress  on  the  rising 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEEKS.  343 

race,  lessons  of  patriotism ;  while  from  the  latter,  much 
gold  could  not  purchase  the  sacred  evidences  of  their 
fealty  to  God  and  Freedom.  Some  will  bear  through  life 
heavy  mortgages  on  future  independence.  Such  might 
have  been  their  fate  had  they  remained  at  home ;  and 
between  being  crippled  in  fighting  for  money  and  fight 
ing  for  a  nation's  glory,  there  is  an  infinite  difference. 
Come  back  how  we  may,  it  will  be  with  an  increased 
self-respect,  an  increased  claim  on  the  respect  of  others, 
that  will  cause  many  to  mourn  that  they  selfishly 
absented  themselves  from  the  post  of  duty  and  of  honor. 
The  time  is  coming  when  posterity  will  summon  such  to 
its  bar,  and  demand  why  they  allowed  others  to  beat 
back,  unhelped  by  them,  the  waves  that  would  have 
desolated  all.  If  they  stand  without  excuse,  the  honors 
of  the  future  will  not  be  for  them.  Returned  soldiers 
will  have  the  ears  of  the  young  for  the  next  thirty  years. 
Whatever  else  they  may  teach,  they  will  certainly  teach 
that  to  the  defenders  of  the  land  belong  its  honors  and 
emoluments.  Even  the  dissipated  return  with  joy,  be 
lieving  that  their  baptism  of  fire  has  purified  their  record, 
and  will  enable  them  to  start  afresh  in  the  pursuit  of  re 
spect  and  prosperity. 

Nothing  of  interest  transpired  at  Donaldsonville,  after 
the  date  of  my  last  letter.  .Picket  duty,  a  daily  drill  of 
an  hour,  fighting  bugs  and  mosquitos,  sweating  in  the, 
sun  by  day,  absorbing  fever  at  night,  watching  the  pass 
ing  boats,  and  wondering  when  we  would  leave  for  home, 
is  a  summary  of  our  last  weeks  at  that  God-forsaken 
place.  There  was  nearly  as  much  of  disagreeable 
monotony  here.  When  will  the  regiment  return?  w^as 
the  great  question.  Of  course,  that  must  antedate  start 
ing  for  home.  Some  little  excitement  was  created  by 
ordering  the  light-duty  men  down  the  river,  awakening 
the  fear  that  the  authorities  intend  to  hold  us  till  the  1 9th 
of  August.  •  This  is  now  the  report,  and  it  comes  so 
straight  that  we  fear  it  is  true.  The  Major  has  gone  to 


.Ml  LIFE    WITH   THE   FOETY-NINTH 

New  Orleans  to  see  about  it.     On  the  19th,  the  Colonel, 
and  many  of  our  sick,  started  for  the  North  by  the  \ 
of  the  Atlantic.    His  arm  begins  to  mend.  iiur- 

bank  made  a  neat  box  for  it  so  that  he  can  carry  it  with 
some  ease.  His  wound  in  the  right  heel  has  ceased  to 
trouble  him. 

There  are  sick  here  who  should  have  gone.  Poor  fel- 
lo'.vs!  some  will  die  if  they  stay  here  another  fortnight! 
Send  them  home  up  the  river  and  by  cars,  and  death  will 
intercept  them.  This  climate  grows  more  infernal,  daily. 
We  are  now  enjoying  the  second  crop  of  flies,  and,  as  for 
musquitos,  they  crop  often  enough  to  keep  us  afflicted 
day  and  night.  This  muggy  weather,  with  mercury  at 
96°,  is  their  carnival.  Were  it  not  for  our  bars,  we 
would  succumb.  When  we  came  here  in  February,  many 
said  they  would  ultimately  settle  here.  Angels  of  purity 
in  Hades  are  not  scarcer  than  those  who  note  cherish  that 
idea.  We  consign  the  whole  of  "  Lousyaiui"  to  negroes 
and  alligators. 

T.  M.  Judd  (F),  has  had  the  bodies  of  Lieutenant 
Doming  and  Sergeant  Wolcott  disinterred,  and  they, 
with  the  body  of  Corporal  Case  (F),  now  await  cooler 
weather  to  bear  them  to  their  burial  in  Sandisfield. 
Stricken,  as  she  has  been,  it  is  fitting  that  some  of  her 
slain  should  IKI  brought  home  to  hallow  her  soil  with 
their  remains.  Deming,  Wolcott,  Case  !  three  Christian 
soldiers,  members  of  the  same  church  !  a  sad,  yet  proud 
day,  wh"n  Sandisfield,  that  gave  them  birth,  shall  give 
them  graves.  Let  her  other  dead  remain  where  they 
fell.  The  distant  tombs  will  be  joined  together,  and  teach 
the  cost  and  sacredness  of  the  reunited  Union.  Remove 
all  our  dead  from  the  South,  and  we  seem  to  yield  that 
soil  to  the  enemy. 

Our  getting  ready  to  come  home  makes  the  three  years' 
troops  feel  badly — even  savage.  They  are  down  on  the 
nine  months'  men,  and  not  un frequently  insult  us.  The 
whole  grievance  is,  "  we  are  going  home,  while  they 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  345 

must  stay  in  the  grave-yard."  Glad  as  we  are  to  leave, 
we  pity  them,  our  gallant  comrades,  but  love  them  no 
better  for  the  sneering  question :  "  Are  you  a  nine 
months'  man  or  a  soldier  ?"  After  battling  as  \ve  have, 
staying  weeks  beyond  our  term  of  service,  doing  every 
thing  required  at  our  hands,  this  sneer  almost  makes  a 
man  anxious  to  pitch  into  brother  blue-coats,  and  show 
them  that  we  cany?///^,  even  if  we  are  not  soldiers.  The 
sneer  generally  comes  from  those  who  have  heard,  not 
seen  the  enemy.  The  Commissary  Sergeant  of  the  53d 
Massachusetts,  a  regiment  that  is  covered  all  over  with 
honors,  went  to  the  bakery  after  soft  bread.  The  baker, 
wTho  had  never  seen  fire  save  in  his  oven,  told  him  he  had 
no  bread  for  nine  monthlings ;  he  baked  for  soldiers. 
Query :  Would  pitching  him  into  one  of  his  ovens,  for  a  few 
minutes,  have  been  an  unpardonable  sin  ?  Though  the  nine 
months'  children  are  sneered  at,  tell  them  you  belong  to  the 
Forty-ninth  and  they  are  proud  to  recognize  you  as  com 
rades  indeed.  Regimental  pride  is  almost  as  strong  as 
family  pride,  and  I  straightened  up  to  my  full  height  the 
other  day  at  the  Ordnance  Office.  I  was  there  making 
arrangements  to  turn  over  our  guns,  and  was  asked  what 
regiment  I  belonged  to;  I  replied,  "The  Forty-ninth 
Massachusetts,"  emphasizing  the  number,  for  it  bears 
emphasis  here,  when  the  officer,  a  three  years'  man-,  said, 
"That  is  a  noble  regiment."  On  the  bridge  across  the 
Bayou,  at  Donaldsonville,  two  officers  were  censuring  the 
nine  months^  soldiers,  when  one,  seeing  some  of  our  boys, 
said,  "There  are  those  brown-breeches  fellows  (our  dark- 
blue  pants  are  a  dingy  brown  now),  you  can  never  scare 
them."  He,  perchance,  had  seen  us  under  fire,  and  knew 
that  whether  we  had  enlisted  for  a  long  or  short  period, 
we  were  worthy  of  the  term  "  soldiers." 

We  are  not   unappreciated ;    some  of  our  officers  and 
men  have  been  proffered  higher  positions  if  they  will  re 
main  or  return   after  a  furlough  of  sixty  days.     T.  M. 
Judd  (F),  one  of  General  Banks's  clerks,  has  been  offered 
15* 


346  LIFE    \VIT1I    TII  i:    POK1 

a  clcrksliip  of  $100  per  inoiilh.  lie  deserves  the  compli- 
iiii-nt,  but  lioine,  wile,  child,  turn  the  scale  in  favor  of 
Berkshire.  The  extravagant  bounty,  $402,  is  leading 
some  to  re-enlist.  Is  there  no  bottom  to  our  Treasury  f 
Pay  (considered  as  an  equivalent  for  services  rendered) 
the  soldier,  and  you  must  needs  coin  national  hopes  and 
-•lory;  ay,  and  some  of  the  beatitude  of  heaven;  so  I  do 
not  think  the  bounty  too  high  ;  but  can  we,  can  any  nation, 
afford  it? 

At  the  orders  of  the  officers,  we  threw  away  some-  of 
(•in-  clothing  on  going  into  battle.  We  expected  the 
government  to  reimburse  us.  That  expectation  fails  us. 
Here  is  a  wrong  that  should  be  righted.  We  had  "  Dress- 
parade"  this  evening,  and  I  could  not  keep  back  the  tears 
as  I  gazed  down  the  line.  Nearly  all  were  present. 
Brown  as  Indians  looked  the  veterans,  deathly  pale  the 
sick  ;  but.  where  is  Doming,  Judd,  Sherman,  Sissons,  Iv>s 
siler,  Wolcott,  Warner,  Pratt,  and  a  host  of  others,  good 
and  true?  Dead,  dying,  wounded.  Sad  contrast  willi 
our  last  dress-parade,  .May  JOtli.  Broken  ranks  testify  to 
duly  done,  and  rewarded  with  mutilation,  dependent'. -, 
death.  There  were  but  few  of  our  stalwart  giants  left. 
Battle  and  sickness  swept,  them  away  iirsl.  -Washed  and 
reclothcd,  the  boys  look  well,  but  nothing  becomes  them 
M>  much  as  their  bronzed  features  and  their  wounds. 

We  are  in  receipt  of  Ne\v  York  papers  of  July  10th. 
They  have  no  account  of  the  surrender  of  Port  Hudson. 
They  do  us  injustice  who  claim  the  surrender  of  Port 
Hudson  as  a  mere  incident  of  the  fall  of  Vieksburg. 
True,  that  discouraged  the  rebels,  but  they  knew  that  our 
next  assault  would  be  successful,  and  so  yielded,  while 
they  could  willi  honor.  I  have  not  heard  of  a  single- 
negro  prisoner  being  found  in  Port  Hudson.  Were  t/n  >/ 
ail  so  wounded  that  they  died'/  Many  of  the  irhttm 
were  living.  Were  tlu-y  mwderedf 

The  anti-draft  riots  of  the  North  make  us  eager  to 'be 
at  home  to  put  down  rebellion  in  New  York.  Better 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  847 

defeats  on  the  Potomac  than  that  mobs  should  triumph. 
Returned  soldiers  will  cheerfully  administer  allopathic 
doses  of  grape  and  canister  which  proved  so  effectual  in 
Boston.  Fortunately,  our  Governor  did  not  recognize 
the  rioters  as  "  my  friends."  At  the  very  hour  brutal  Irish 
men  were  slaughtering  unarmed  negroes  in  New  York, 
the  Fifty-fourth  Massachusetts  was  pressing  against  the 
walls  of  Fort  Wagner.  Better  such  negroes  for  citizens, 
ay,  for  rulers,  than  such  foreigners.  America  has  more 
to  fear  from  the  latter  class.  I  was  always  opposed  to 
"  Native-Americanism,"  but  a  few  riots  of  the  New  York 
kind,  and  love  of  country  will  make  me  adopt  that  sys 
tem,  which  I  once  thought  so  narrow  and  bigoted.  All 
honor  to  our  negro  soldiers.  They  deserve  citizenship. 
They  will  secure  it.  When  Sergeant  Carney  held  the 
emblem  of  liberty  over  the  walls  of  Fort  Wagner,  refu 
sing  to  yield  the  sacred  standard,  though  twice  severely 
wounded,  and  was  carried  to  the  hospital  saying,  to  his 
cheering  comrades,  "  Boys,  the  old  flag  never  touched  the 
ground,"  he  gave  better  proof  of  loyalty  to  this  land  than 
ever  did  any  son  of  Green  Erin.  Irishmen  fight,  because 
fight  is  in  them,  but  not  for  freedom.  They  have  but  little 
appreciation  of  that.  Germans,  though  half  infidelized, 
understand  its  inspiration,  and  accordingly  make  better 
American  citizens.  I  have  written  much  about  the  negro, 
and  now,  I  bid  him  adieu.  His  future  here  is  safe  and 
free.  In  the  transition  state,  thousands  will  suffer  and 
die.  A  nation  is  not  born  without  pangs.  The  life  will 
fully  pay  for-  the  sufferings.  "  Bring  me,"  said  a  desolate 
slave-mother,  "  the  ashes  of  the  last  auction-block  for  my 
sold  daughter."  What  matters  that  mother's  pangs  to 
her  joy  in  seeing  the  evidence  of  slavery's  death.  I  have 
seen  much  of  slavery  and  no  good,  unless  you  call  this 
good:  proportionally,  there  are  fewer  white  prostitutes 
in  the  South  than  in  the  North.  Before  Him,  who  is  "no 
respecter  of  person,"  call  you  this  "good?" 

Berkshire   is   preparing  to   receive   the    Forty-ninth. 


T.48  LIFE   WITH    THE    FORTY-NIXTII 


will  give  us  a  reception  expressive  of  her  pride  and 
joy.  We  are  her  sons,  and  have  not  disgraced  her. 
u  When  the  boys  come  home,"  is  now  her  refrain.  We 
fear  her  cakes  will  grow  stale  while  waiting.  No  need 
of  that,  for  our  brothers  are  even  now  on  the  road  home, 
and  to  M<  ,//,  i'avors  shown,  will  be  written  down  in 
hearts  of  gratitude.  If  we  return  through  the  loyal 
North,  with  appetites  quickened  by  seeing  delicacies 
•we  cannot  purchase,  we  Only  hope  that  short  the 
speeches,  not  long  the  grace,  before  we  are  conducted 
to  the  flesh-pots  of  Berkshire.  Ever  so  fully  fed,  an 
angel's  eloquence  would  tire  us  till  we  had  clasped  wives 
and  little  ones  to  our  hearts.  Speed  the  slow  hours  till 
the  boys  get  home,  is  our  prayer.  But, 

"  They  come  not  back,  though  all  be  won, 
Whose  young  hearts  leaped  soHiigh." 

Benedict  Niles  (G),  aged  twenty-nine,  farmer,  of 
Clarksburgh,  died  July  22d,  at  this  place,  of  heart  dis 
ease.  He  leaves  wife  and  family.  Weakly,  he  did 
what  he  could.  Spared  as  was  his  company  from  dan 
ger  and  exposures,  he  has  yet  given  to  this  soil  his 
remains. 

Augustine  Aldrich  (G),  also  from  Clarksburgh,  died 
July  23d.  He,  too,  leaves  a  family  to  expect  his  speedy 
return.  Alas!  they  will  come  to  greet  him,  but  snd 
news  will  change  the  joy  into  wailing.  He  was  twenty- 
three  years  of  nge.  His  death  was  caused  by  an  abscess 
in  the  side. 

Elijah  M.  Morse  (F),  merchant,  from  Otis,  died  of 
diarrhoea,  July  24th,  aged  twenty-seven  years,  leaving  a 
large  family  to  mourn  for  the  husband,  the  father,  they 
are  no  more  to  see.  lie  was  a  good  soldier,  quiet, 
faithful,  and  respected  by  his  comrades. 

A.  II.  Maranville  (I?),  farmer,  from  Savoy,  died  here, 
July  'Jfith,  :u:ed  tin-  y-  ;  rht  years.  lie  was  a  ready, 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  349 

prompt  soldier  and  a  faithful  Christian  man.  Sad,  to 
die,  just  as  we  expect  to  leave;  sad,  that  an  anxious 
wife  shall  receive  tidings  of  a  dead,  instead  of  the  em 
brace  of  a  living  husband ;  yet,  the  consolation  survives, 
that  the  weary  soldier  has  been  ushered  into  his  heavenly 
home,  and  that  God's  own  peace  surrounds  and  fills  him. 
There  is  life  in  his  death. 

In  the  hurry  of  the  march  on  Port  Hudson,  I  did  not 
apprise  you  of  two  deaths  that  occurred  in  Co.  G. 

Charles  G.  Courtwright  (G),  spinner,  of  South  Adams, 
aged  twenty  years,  died  at  Baton  Rouge,  May  15th,  of 
congestion  of  the  bowels.  His  sickness  was  short  but 
severe,  and  closed  a  valuable  life,  for  he  was  a  good 
soldier,  and  as  a  man  much  respected. 

Thomas  J.  Sweet  (G),  died  in  New  Orleans,  May  19th, 
of  diarrhoea.  He  was  a  farmer,  from  Hancock,  aged 
twenty-six  years ;  always  sickly,  but  faithful,  according 
to  his  strength. 


350  LIFE    Wlill    TJ1K  i.Ylll 


LETTER    XXXV. 

ER,  ABOVE 

August  9,  1863. 


MISSISSIPPI  IllVER,  ABOVE  NEW  ORLEANS,   ) ' 


MY  DEAK  L. : 

On  the  5th  inst.  the  Major  returned  from  New  Or 
leans,  and  informed  us  that  the  authorities  recognized 
our  term  of  service  as  having  expired  on  the  28th  of 
July,  and  would  send  us  home  as  soon  as  they  could 
obtain  the  needed  vessels.  That  same  afternoon  \vc  were 
ordered  to  prepare  for  leaving,  and  a  joyous  activity 
reigned  in  every  street. 

August  01  h,  Co.  G  was  relieved  from  provost  duty, 
and  returned  to  camp.  Though  they  have  had  no  share 
in  the  honors  of  the  Jidd,  they  are  not  without  their 
laurels.  They  gave  complete  satisfaction  to  the  Provost- 
Mar.-lial,  and  the  citizens  were  loth  to  give  them  up. 
.Many  and  delicate  were  their  duties.  Not  one  abused 
his  privileges,  without  this  cutting  joke  were  an  abuse. 
Some  of  the  natives  are  darker  than  many  of  the 
negroes,  who  are  required  to  be  furnished  with  passes. 
You  can  imagine  the  scene,  when  a  guard  stops  one  of 
these  dark  citizens,  requiring  him  to  show  a  pass,  on  the 
ground  that  no  negroes  are  allowed  to  go  by  without 
that  authority,  and  the  humble  apology  when  citizen 
angrily  asserts  his  Circassian  blood.  Company  G  kept 
Baton  Rouge  as  quiet  as  Pittsfield.  You  would  not  have 
imagined  there  were  many  thousands  of  soldiers  within 
a  few  miles.  The  negro  troops  were  as  orderly  as 
church- wardens.  While  we  were  at  Port  Hudson,  pro 
vost-guards  had  to  do  picket  work,  and  were  frequently 
ordered  to  "fall  in"  to  beat  back  a  foe  who  thivaii-m-d 
often,  but  never  attacked.  The  citizens  of  Baton  llouge 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  351 

will  forget  the  Forty-ninth  Mass.,  but  will  long  remember 
Co.  G,  whose  faithful  discharge  of  duty  gave  them  all 
the  quiet  and  security  of  peace  amid  the  turmoils  and 
lawlessness  of  war.  That  company  enjoyed  almost  as 
good  health  as  if  they  had  remained  in  Berkshire.  They 
realized  many  of  the  comforts  of  home,  to  which  we 
were  strangers.  Dismissed  with  the  earnest  "  Well 
done,  good  and  faithful  guards  !"  they  rejoined  us. 

The  return  of  nearly  all  our  "missing,"  on  the  7th 
inst.,  put  us  in  good  spirits.  Between  their  capture, 
July  13  and  July  15,  they  were  marched  forty-two 
miles  and  then  paroled,  fed,  in  the  mean  time,  on  a  cup 
of  meal  each  per  day.  They  were  robbed  of  nearly 
every  thing.  Most  of  them  found  their  way  to  the  river 
and  were  carried  to  New  Orleans,  thence  to  Ship  Island, 
and  thence  to  Baton  Rouge.  They  suffered  much,  and 
H.  P.  Wood  (F),  a  noble  soldier,  almost  laid  do\vn  and 
died.  Only  the  unremitting  kindness  of  his  comrades 
enabled  him  to  find  his  way  into  our  lines.  Poor  fellow  ! 
I  fear  an  early  grave  is  yawning  for  him.  I  hope  he 
may,  at  least,  be  spared  to  die  at  home.  On  reaching 
New  Orleans,  they  were  ragged  and  dirty,  but  they  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Captain  W.  W.  Rockwell  (called 
Willie  Rockwell  at  home),  of  Pittsfield.  He  deserves 
the  affectionate  abbreviation,  for  he  tenderly  cared  for 
them,  securing  good  clothes,  (at  whose  expense  I  know 
not,  certainly  not  at  theirs),  and  freely  furnishing  them 
with  money  from  his  own  purse.  Many  of  them  were 
strangers  to  him,  but  they  were  Massachusetts  soldiers, 
Berkshire  boys.  His  generous  heart  cared  to  know 
no  more. 

Of  Fuller  (F)  and  Bull  (A)  we  can  gather  no  tidings. 
There  is  but  little  doubt  that  they  are  lying  in  some  of  the 
ditches  near  the  battle-field  of  Donaldsonville.  Perchance, 
wounded,  they  sought  shelter  there  from  the  foe,  know 
ing  not  a  fiercer  foe  was  on  their  track.  It  may  be,  that, 
like  the  lamented  Bradley,  death  mercifully  shortened 


352  LIFE    WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

their  sufferings.  To  know  this  would  be  easier  for  friends 
to  bear  than  the  harrowing  suspense.  Compelled  to  re 
linquish  all  hopes  of  seeing  them  again,  I  give  you  their 
brief  obituaries. 

HWAs  Fuller  was  a  Stockbridge  farmer,  aged  thirty 
years.  He  leaves  a  wife  and  several  children.  In  camp, 
he  was  ever  steady,  faithful,  and  reliable.  lit;  was  one  of 
our  pioneers,  and  did  his  duty  intelligently  and  fully.  He 
made  a  fine  appearance,  looking  the  soldier.  For  long 
days  he  waited  for  the  signal  to  batter  down  the  walls  of 
Port  Hudson.  It  came  not,  and  he  was  spared  to  pioneer 
us  amid  the  cane-brakes  of  Bayou  La  Fourche.  Doing 
his  duty,  he  met  the  unconquerable  enemy.  We  know 
not  the  spot  of  his  burial ;  but  we  record  him  among  our 
u  fallen  brave." 

James  B.  Dull  was  an  excellent  soldier  and  an  intelli 
gent  man.  He  was  a  corporal  in  Company  A.  Unwell, 
he  did  not  go  up  to  Port  Hudson  till  near  the  close  oi 
that  siege.  Spared  those  scenes  of  slaughter,  he  yielded 
up  his  life  in  an  hour  of  comparative  safety.  The  land 
of  stern  devotion  to  duty,  Scotland,  gave  him  birth ; 
Louisiana  gives  him  a  burial.  'Twere  worth  the  death- 
struggle  to  plant  in  that  morally  barren  soil,  the  love  of 
religious  freedom  that  has  lifted  Scotland  so  high  among 
the  races  of  men.  "Missing!''  who  knows  how  much  of 
agony  gathers  round  that  word.  A  soldier  missing.  The 
world  hears  and  heeds  but  little,  but  some  hear,  and  sor 
rowing  echoes  ring  through  the  chambers  of  their  souls. 
"  AVhen  thousands  fall,  and  are  massed  into  trenches  to 
gether,  when  thousands  of  homes  are  darkened,  and  thou 
sands  of  hearts  bereft  forever,  we  weep  over  the  magnifi 
cent  sacrifice  which  entirely  tills  our  imagination.  But 
when  a  single  life  is  offered,  a  solitary  home  desolated 
for  the  sake  of  country,  why  it  is  of  such  small  account 
we  cannot  come  down  from  our  splendid  grief,  we  who 
have  bewept  the  stupendous  carnage  of  Fredericksburg, 
Gettysburg  and  Port  Hudson — to  bewail  the  loss  of 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  -353 

4  only  a  man.'  He  died  for  his  country,  yet  who  will 
pronounce  his  eulogy,  who  print  his  name  in  the  news 
papers,  and  '  cover  it  with  glory  ?'  It  is  of  no  account 
to  tfce  great  world,  mad  for  her  crowned  heroes,  that 
waiting  their  nameless  brave — 

"  'Mother  or  maiden  stand 

Within  a  lonely  home, 

And  say :  '  When  will  he  come 
Out  from  the  returning  ranks  ?  How  long  he  lingers 

With  his  victorious  band!' 

Tender  loving  lips  have  kissed 
Their  last ;  and  never  more  shall  thrill  white  fingers 

For  that  one  soldier  missed  !'  " 

Ralph  E.  P helps  (K),  nged  thirty-six  years,  farmer,  from 
Florida,  was  wounded  in  the  leg,  May  27th,  so  that  am 
putation  became  necessary.  He  died  in  the  hospital  at 
Baton  Rouge  the  day  we  left.  The  brave  corporal  reached 
his  home  first.  He  leaves  a  family  to  mourn  his  loss 
Florida  sent  ten  good  men  with  the  Forty-ninth  ;  only 
one-half  return.  She  may  well  sadden  at  their  loss,  but 
pride  also  gathers  round  the  grave  of  such  dauntless 
heroes  as  Ralph  E.  Phelps. 

We  left  Baton  Rouge  August  8th,  5  p.  M.,  by  the 
steamer  J.  Raymond.  Our  rejuvenated  band  played,  a 
fine  breeze  quickened  our  blood,  and  passing  the  State 
House  and  General  Hospital,  we  sailed  down  the  river, 
u  homeward  bound."  True,  some  of  our  wounded  com 
rades  were  looking  at  our  receding  forms  with  sadness ; 
true,  we  were  much  crowded  on  deck  and  in  cabin,  but 
every  thing  was  forgotten  in  the  joyous  thought,  "  duty 
done  and  we're  homeward  bound."  Saturday  afternoon 
it  was,  and,  of  course,  the  negroes'  holiday.  Their  toil 
over,  a  toil,  our  toil  has  mingled  with  hope,  it  was  fitting 
that  they  should  wave  us  their  adieus.  Cheerfully  the 
night  passed,  and  the  morning  found  us  at  New  Origans. 

Lo  !  the  T.  A.  Scott  had  left  us.     A  Connecticut  regi- 


054  LIFE    WITH    THE    FOUTV-XINTII 

ment  played  us  a  Yankee  trick,  and  stole  an  earlier  pas- 
.  We  embarked  on  the  steamboat  Temple,  about  2£ 
r.  M.,  August  9th,  and  are  now  retracing  our  weary  steps. 
A  long,  discomforting,  exhausting  trip  is  before  us.  The 
well  will  bear  it,  for  each  revolution  of  the  wheels  brings 
us  nearer  home.  I  fear  me  the  very  anxiety  of  our  sick 
to  reach  Berkshire  will  exhaust  them  and  open  interve 
ning  graves. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  355 


LETTER    XXXYI. 

.  CAIRO,  ILLINOIS,  August  18,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

Sunday  night,  the  16th  instant,  at  lip.  M.,  we  reached 
this  gloomy  place,  and  are  yet  waiting  for  transportation. 
We  Lave  had  a  dull  trip.  The  river  is  beautiful,  but  mo 
notonous.  Above  J^aton  Rouge,  which  we  re-left  on  the 
10th,  9  A.  M.,  there  are  few  houses  to  be  seen  on  the 
banks  of  the  stream.  We  gazed  on  the  dear  old  flag  we 
had  followed  into  battle,  floating  in  triumph  over  Port 
Hudson  and  Yicksburg,  with  emotions  of  mingled  sor 
row  and  pride.  The  numerous  boats  descending  the 
river,  eloquently  proclaim  that  we  have  not  spent  our 
strength  for  naught.  It  is  free.  Its  freedom  proclaims  the 
death  of  slavery  and  rebellion.  It  was  fitting  we  should 
sail  over  the  scene  of  our  triumphs,  yet  but  few  of  us  have 
any  desire  to  renew  the  triumphal  march.  Coming  up 
this  river  in  August,  under  the  most  favorable  circum 
stances,  is  not  a  matter  of  pleasure  ;  to  us  it  was  crowded 
with  discomforts.  Lying  on  the  damp,  cinder-covered 
decks  at  night  was  positive  comfort  to  enduring  the  rays 
of  the  sun  by  day.  On  the  unsheltered  deck  we  must 
be,  or  seek  shade  in  the  suffocating  hold,  in  close  prox 
imity  to  the  fires.  Too  crowded  to  be  benefited  by  cir 
culation  of  air,  which  Heaven  gave  grudgingly,  we  panted 
through  the  days  and  hailed  the  nights  with  their  damp- 
ness  and  mosquitos  as  friends  indeed.  Cooking  was 
performed  under  difficulties  only  inferior  to  those  we  en 
countered  on  the  Illinois.  All  was  borne  cheerfully,  for, 
are  we  not  "  homeward  bound  ?"  You  can  imagine  how 
the  sick  fared.  They  are  failing  rapidly.  Some  have 
died. 


356  LIFE   WITH    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

We  had  to  go  slowly  up  this  tortuous  river,  because 
new  bars  form  so  rapidly,  that  constant  travel  is  necessary 
to  understand  their  location.  After  two  years'  rest  it 
was  almost  a  strange  channel  to  our  pilot.  Getting  on  a 
bar  would  not  only  have  delayed  us,  but  might  have 
brought  us  into  disagreeable  proximity  to  .the  prowling- 
guerrillas,  who  amuse  themselves  by  tiring  into  passing 
boats,  and  by  capturing  those  who  get  "  stuck/'  Twenty- 
five  unloaded  rifles  may  enable  us  to  do  guard  duty  as 
we  return,  but  would  hardly  keep  back  a  horde  of  rebels. 
To  men  who  are  in  a  hurry,  whose  friends  are  awaiting 
them,  it  is  provoking  to  look  over  -a  jet  of  land,  not  a 
mile  wide,  and  learn  that  you  have  to  travel  thirty  miles 
to  reach  that  spot.  All  that  belongs  to  the  trip  "  up  the 
river." 

The  officers  tried  to  make  up  their  accounts  while  on 
the  boat,  so  as  not  to  delay  our  being  mustered  out  and 
paid  oil\  but  our  craft  was  rightly  named  "  Tempest,"  and 
after  specimens  of  chirography  that  would  have  appalled 
the  Departments  at  Washington,  the  attempt  was  aban 
doned. 

We  leave  some  of  our  sick  at  this  place,  among  whom 
is  William  E.  Clark  (A),  of  Pittstield ;  a  tip-top  soldier. 
I  hope  we  do  not  leave  him  to  die  among  strangers.  As 
we  were  near  Donaldsonville,  on  the  night  of  the  9th 
instant,  Ezra  Van  Dusen  (E)  walked,  while  asleep,  into 
the  river  and  was  drowned.  His  body  could  not  be  re 
covered.  He  was  a  farmer,  from  Egremont,  aged  twenty- 
seven  years,  and  is  spoken  of  as  a  nice  man.  He  was 
mainly  employed  in  the  cooking  department,  where  he 
gave  general  satisfaction.  He  leaves  a  wife  and  chil 
dren.  Perchance  they  will  come  to  Pittstield,  to  greet 
the  returning  husband  and  lather.  God  pity  them,  in 
that  hour. 

Daniel  Owens  (I)  died  on  the  13th  instant,  aged  thirty. 
one  years.  His  brother,  Nelson,  who  disappeared  when 
we  were  encamped  at  Bayou  Montecino,  died  among  the 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  357 

rebels,  at  Jackson,  Mississippi.  I  had  no  acquaintance 
with  either  of  them. 

Levi  Proutt  (I),  fanner,  from  Cummington,  aged  forty- 
four  years,  died  of  diarrhoea,  August  14th. 

Egbert  Smith  (H),  a  Sandisfield  farmer,  aged  twenty- 
six  years,  died  on  the  same  day.  His  health  was  poor, 
but  he  was  always  willing  to  do  his  duty.  A  good  sol 
dier  he  was,  one  on  whom  you  could  always  depend.  He 
started  with  us  when  we  moved  on  Port  Hudson,  but 
was  too  weak  for  service,  so  had  to  return.  A  good  man 
and  a  faithful  comrade ;  we  buried  him  in  Arkansas,  as 
we  did  the  others  who  died  on  the  boat.  Sad  interrup 
tions,  were  these  stoppages.  Death  demanded  additional 
tribute  almost  on  the  confines  of  our  eagerly  sought 
homes.  Thank  God,  the  weary  trip,  with  its  suspense 
and  exhaustion  and  death,  is  over.  Soon  we  will  be  on 
our  homeward  road  again ;  soon  reach  the  desired  haven. 
Has  death  been  as  remorseless  there? 


358  LIFE    WITH   THE   FOETY-NINTU 


LETTER    XXXVII. 

PITTSFIELD,  MASS,,  August  24,  18G3. 

MY  DEAR  L. : 

Home  again !  and  now  I  sit  down  to  finish  the  account 
of  our  trip.-  Officers  in  passenger-cars  and  "  enlist  r<  I 
men"  in  cattle-cars,  we  left  Cairo  on  the  evening  of  the 
18th.  Cattle-cars  awakened  our  indignation  at  iirst,  but 
we  learned  they  were  more  comfortable  for  a  four  dn\V 
journey  than  those  occupied  by  the  officers  ;  for,  occasion 
ally,  we  could  enjoy  the  luxury  of  expansion,  and,  albeit, 
they  were  hard  and  springless,  get  some  sleep.  Clean 
straw  was  given  to  the  sick  for  bedding.  Passing  through 
fever-cursed  (Southern  Illinois,  we  reached  Mattoon  the 
next  morning,  where  we  were  furnished,  gratuitously, 
by  the  ladies  with  an  excellent  breakfast.  Fresh  from 
hard-tack  and  salt-beef,  we  did  that  breakfast  such  justice 
as  left  our  providers  no  doubts  as  to  our  appetite  or  their 
capacity  to  cater  for  hungry  men.  I  tell  you,  the  mother 
rose  to  our  eyes  as  we  overfilled  our  craving  stomachs. 
Despite  the  wretched  Copperheads,  who  held  a  meeting 
there  a  few  days  before,  at  which  cheers  for  Davis  and 
groans  for  Lincoln  were  intermingled,  we  knew  we  were 
in  the  loyal  North,  and  woman's  kindness  came  to  us 
with  an  unexpected  and  touching  power.  God  bless 
them !  they  were  not  handsome,  but  they  were  earnestly 
good,  and,  with  their  comforts,  we  received  fresh  draughts 
of  patriotism  for  future  sacrifices.  \Vre  had  been  worrying 
ourselves  about  the  emptiness  of  our  purses  ;  we  knew 
not  that  the  great  heart  of  the  North  was  alive  to  our 
coming.  After  we  had  penetrated  a  few  miles  into 
Illinois,  apple-peddlers  offered  their  wares  at,  what 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  359 

seemed  to  us.  marvellously  low  prices,  but  still  beyond 
our  reach;  anon,  some  kind  souls  would  throw  apples 
into  the  passing  cars  ;  then,  at  small  stations,  we 
would  see  miniatures  of  the  "  dear  old  flag"  flying,  and 
whole  baskets  of  fruit  would  be  handed  in,  and,  at  times, 
those  who  had  money  would  rush  out  arid  get  a  little  milk 
or  a  few  eggs,  and  return  with  their  purses  no  lighter, 
which,  being  published,  would  lead  scores  to  the  friendly 
doors,  from  which  none  came  away  empty-handed,  and 
then  we  exclaimed,  "  This  is  our  land ;  God  bless  it 
forever  and  ever !"  At  Mattoon  we  began  to  learn  that 
returning  soldiers  had  coin  more  precious  than  gold  ;  coin 
that  secured  not  only  all  needed  blessings,  but  the  affec 
tionate  attention  of  men  too  old  to  be  in  the  army,  and 
of  women  who  so  loved  their  country  that  they  had 
given  to  its  defence  husbands,  brothers,  sons,  lovers,  all. 
Our  trip  was  one  continued  ovation.  So  many  regiments 
had  preceded  us  that  their  benevolence  had  become 
systematized,  and  from  station  to  station  the  lightning 
flashed  the  news,  "The  boys  are  coining!"  and  great 
hearts,  knowing  that  they  are  "  our  boys,"  no  matter 
whether  they  hail  from  Illinois  or  Massachusetts,  met  us 
with  so  many  luxuries  that  money  seemed  a  thing  too 
sordid  to  connect  with  such  a  triumphal  march. 

Every  thing  substantial  was  offered  ;  and  a  good  wo 
man,  perchance  thinking  of  her  "  old  man,"  who  liked 
his  tobacco  after  meals,  would  supply  us  with  some 
"  fine-cut,"  and  another  would  pass  round  a  little  of  the 
"  ardent,"  concluding  it  would  not  do  to  be  too  strict, 
and  the  change  of  water  might  make  it  beneficial  to  the 
boys ;  while  others  presented  us  with  bottles  of  black 
berry  brandy,  or  little  vials  of  medicine  for  diarrhoea. 
God  bless  them !  It  was  worth  much  of  our  privations 
to  be  the  recipients  of  such  loving  and  grateful  atten 
tions.  No  one  gave  because  we  were  moneyless ;  they 
knew  not  that,  but  their  hearts  said,  "These  are  our 
boys  ;  they  have  been  fighting  for  us ;  can't  we  do  yet 


360  LIFE    WITH   THE   FORTY-NINTH 

more  for  them  ?"  At  first  they  did  not  complain  of  onr 
appetites,  but  after  two  or  th:-ee  gorgings  we  necessarily 
came  do\vn  to  human  standards,  and  really  saddened 
some  because  we  could  not  eat  all  they  offered.  "Take 
it  along  with  you,  you  may  need  it  on  the  road  ;1J  and 
filling  up  haversacks,  we  would  pass  on.  Bless  their  dear 
souls !  they  forgot  that  there  were  many  stations  on  the 
road,  and  we  must  leave  some  vacant  corners  for  future 
benefactors. 

C'old  will  be  our  hearts  before  we  forget  Mattoon, 
Indianapolis,  Bellefontaine,  Cleveland,  Buffalo,  Utica. 
We  had  si  k  ;vith  us,  for  whom  we  cared,  but  with  such 
rough  manner  that  they  thought  of  home  by  a  tender 
ness  which  was  lacking;  but,  stop  where  we  would, 
strong  men  and  earnest-eyed  women  sought  out  the  sick, 
pressing  dainties  upon  them,  till  our  good  surgeon  had 
to  interfere  to  prevent  any  illustrations  of  being  killed 
with  kindness.  What  loving  hearts  could  devise  or 
loving  skill  prepare,  was  furnished  with  an  accompanying 
tenderness  that  brought  home  vividly  before  our  almost 
despairing,  ay,  dying  comrades.  Refined,  delicate 
women  would  sit  down  in  the  dirty  cars,  take  the  heads 
of  the  poor  fellows  on  their  laps,  and  tenderly  bathe  their 
brows  and  wash  hands  and  feet  that  had  long  been  guilt 
less  of  wrater.  Like  angels,  they  hovered  over  these 
wrecks  of  human  strength,  and,  like  angels,  wept  not,  lest 
the  tears  welling  up  from  overcharged  hearts  should  hinder 
them  in  the  discharge  of  their  loving,  but  hurried  duties. 

At  Cleveland  we  left  Lieutenant  Reed,  Charley  French 
(D),  and  others.  I  fear  they  will  return  to  Berkshire 
only  as  corpses.  Reed  is  a  noble  fellow.  Had  he  been 
willing  to  leave  his  company  sooner  than  he  did,  he 
might  now  be  well.  To  go  to  Port  Hudson,  he  left  the 
hospital,  and  only  returned  thither  when  his  shrinking 
flesh  couid  no  longer  submit  to  the  earnest,  patriotic 
will.  If  he  dies,  he  is  a  battle-victim  as  surely  as  if  he 
had  fallen  in  the  thickest  of  the  strife. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  361 

It  would  take  up  too  much  of  your  time  to  read  of  all 
onr  receptions,  but  you  must  pause  awhile  at  the  follow 
ing  extract  from  the  Utica  Herald : 

"THE  49Tii  MASSACHUSETTS. — It  was  about  fifteen  min 
utes  before  eight  o'clock  last  evening  when  the  49th 
Massachusetts  regiment  arrived  at  the  depot  on  a  train 
of  twenty  cars.  The  vigilant  committte  and  their  vigi 
lant  aids  had  made  their  preparations  on  a  more  ex 
tensive  scale  than  heretofore,  in  order  that  the  large 
regiment  of  seven  hundred  and  fifteen  men  might  be 
suitably  accommodated  and  refreshed.  Besides  the  usual 
complement  of  coffee,  biscuits,  sandwiches,  cakes,  and 
meats,  there  were  platters  heaped  with  warm  boiled 
potatoes,  a  good  supply  of  different  varieties  of  pickles, 
pies,  and  other  niceties — a  feast  fit  to  make  all  who 
looked  upon  it  hungry.  The  ladies  who  lent  their  assist 
ance  never  looked  more  kind  and  smiling,  and  many  of 
them  stood  ready  to  wait  on  the  sick,  with  wines  and 
cordials,  and  such  other  delicacies  as  were  needed. 

"  Such  a  crowd  as  was  at  the  depot,  to  see  and  greet  the 
Forty-ninth,  has  not  been  there  since  the  reception  of  the 
14th  and  26th  regiments.  The  people  began  to  gather 
before  7  o'clock,  and  continued  to  flock  depot  ward  until 
the  number  was  estimated  at  five  or  six  thousand. 

"  The  regiment  was  greeted  with  cheers,  and  thunders 
from  Dunn  and  Morrison's  battery  on  its  arrival,  and 
responded  with  other  cheers  and  martial  music.  It  was 
pleasant  to  see  the  soldiers'  faces  light  up  as  they  looked 
over  the  well-spread  tables  and  smelt  the  fragrance  of  the 
coffee-cups.  They  had  had  nothing  to  eat  since  morning, 
at  Buffalo.  As  they  filed  out  of  the  cars  and  into  po 
sition,  it  was  remarked  by  many  that  a  finer  appearing  body 
of  soldiers  had  not  been  seen  in  Utica.  A  much  more 
stalwart  regiment,  physically,  than  most  others,  it  appears 
to  have  considerably  more  than  its  share  of  intelligence ; 
and  as  to  their  faces,  the  ladies  were  charmed.  And  such 
cheery  prattle  and  bustle  as  these  good  ladies  distributed 
16 


302  'JFK  WITH  Tin:  F«-.I:TV-MXTH 

among  tlie  handsome  soldier  faces  cannot  -be  outdone  by 
any  other  ladies  of  any  other  town;  of  this  we  are  al>M> 
lately  certain;  and  the  owners  of  the  handsome  I'M 
wil'  remember  them  to  the  everlasting  honor  of  Utica — 
we  heard  them  say  they  would.  They  had  received 
handsome  treatment,  they  said,  at  Buffalo,  Cleveland, 
and  other  places  along  their  route,  but  Utica  was  ahead 
— Utica  ladies  did  beat  all.  And  so  it  is  no  wonder  that 
they  went  off  cheering  vociferously  for  the  ladies  of 
Utica.  Some  of  the  ladies  had  prepared  pretty  bouqu  -ts, 
and  did  not  forget  to  distribute  them. 

"  Citizens  who  looked  after  the  sick  inform  us  that  they 
were  all  very  comfortable  and  better  cared  for  than  those 
of  the  previous  regiments  have  been.  They  say  that 
Surgeons  Winsor  and  Rice  are  evidently  just  the  men 
for  their  position,  and  deserving  of  the  highest  credit." 

The  editor  of  the  Eagle  truthfully  and  happily  says : 

"And  let  us  add  that  they  still  keep  on  cheering  for 
Utica.  By  every  Berkshire  fireside  the  patriotic  kindness 
of  those  Utica  ladies  is  told,  and  warm  hearts  expand 
with  gratitude  to  hear  it.  Tens  of  thousands  of  Berk 
shire  hearts  will  beat  with  a  kindlier  feeling  whenever 
hereafter  they  hear  or  see  the  name  of  a  city  which 
so  nobly  cheered  the  wayfaring  of  those  we  were  impar 
tient  to  welcome  home.  God  bless  the  glorious  city  of 
Utica !" 

On  the  22d,  at  \\  A.  M.,  we  reached  Albany,  where  some 
received  sandwiches  and  coffee,  and  where  all  washed  up 
and  put  on  their  best  toggery,  so  as  to  look  as  well  as 
possible  under  the  gaze  of  Berkshire.  To  have  marched 
into  Pittsfield  in  all  our  dirt  and  rags,  would  only  have 
been  an  affectation  of  heroism.  We  knew  that  "  mother,*' 
wife,  sister,  would  be  better  pleased  to  have  us  look 
presentable,  and  the  nearer  home  we  got  the  gentler 
and  softer  were  our  feelings.  In  comfortable  pas-enger- 
cars  we  left  Albany  about  7  A.  M.,  and  cheerily  sped  on 
our  way.  Never  did  any  country  look  so  beautiful  as 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  363 

did  the  rich  counties  of  Albany  and  Columbia.  We 
crossed  the  State  line,  and,  with  a  joy  too  deep  for 
cheers,  felt  we  were  again  in  the  dear  old  Common 
wealth,  whose  principles  we  had  gone  forth  to  uphold 
and  extend.  The  booming  cannon  and  the  deep  cheers 
at-  last  told  us  we  were  at  home.  Berkshire  was  there 
to  greet  us.  Her  proudest  day  had  dawned.  The  long- 
expected  Forty-ninth  had  come.  She  was  there  to  give 
us  an  ovation  as  honorable  to  her  as  it  was  grateful  to  us. 
In  that  ovation  pride  for  our  victories  mingled  with  joy 
for  our  return.  It  was  the  expression  of  a  patriotism 
wedded  to  domestic  happiness.  The  "oldest  inhabitant" 
never  before  saw  such  a  crowd  in  Pittsfield.  From 
early  light  extra  trains  had  poured  in  their  thousands. 
It  was  a  lovely  morning,  and  "The  boys  had  come 
home  !"  We  were  to  keep  in  order,  fall  into  line,  and, 
after  a  short  march  and  a  short  speech,  repair  to  the 
tables  of  feasting.  A  nice  programme,  but  a  mother's 
eyes  met  those  of  her  child,  and  must  they  wait  an  hour 
for  the  fond  embrace  ?  The  husband,  the  father,  saw  the 
wife,  the  little  ones,  and  Heaven  prompted  one  glad 
greeting  before  the  formal  reception.  Robed  in  mourn 
ing,  the  bereaved  parent  could  poorly  wait  to  shed  her 
tears  on  the.  breast  of  her  last  boy,  while  she  sadly 
thought  £>f  the  other  lying  in  his  lonely  Southern  grave." 

The  following  extracts  from  the  Pittsfield  /Sun  will 
give  you  a  good  view  of  "  Reception  Day :" 

"  The  regiment  was  received  at  the  depot  and  escorted 
to  the  Park  in  the  following  order :  Cavalcade  of  citizens ; 
Stewart's  Band  of  N.  Adams ;  Housatonic  Engine  Com 
pany  ;  Greylock  Hook  and  Ladder  Company ;  Taconic 
Engine  Company ;  Lee  Cornet  Band  ;  Water- Witch  Fire 
Engine  Company,  of  Lee;  St.  Joseph's  Mutual  Aid  So 
ciety  ;  the  Pittsfield  Liederkranz ;  Schreiber's  Band  of 
Albany ;  49th  Regiment  Massachusetts  Volunteers. 

"The  line  of  march  was  from  the  Western  Railroad  De 
pot,  through  Depot  street,  North  street  and  South  street, 


30  i  LIFE    WITH   THE   FORTT-XINTIT 

to  East  Ilousatonic  street,  through  East  Tlousatonic  st, 
to  Staple  street,  through  Maple  to  East  street,  up  East 
street  to  the  north  side  of  the  Park. 

"At  the  front  of  the  regiment  rode  its  heroic  com 
mander,  Colonel  Bartlett,  mounted  upon  a  splendid  horse 
which  he  took  with  him  to  Port  Hudson,  having  hut  one 
arm  at  liberty,  the  other  not  yet  being  recovered  from  the 
wound  received  early  in  the  attack  upon  the  fort.  His  sol 
dier-like  bearing,  and  the  enthusiasm  of  the  regiment  upon 
meeting  him  again,  added  to  the  record  of  his  deeds  an<1 
tlu?  silent  testimony  of  his  wounds,  prove  him  to  be  one 
of  the  few  of  our  many  officers  who  honor  their  positions 
more  than  their  positions  honors  them.  When  the  his 
tory  of  the  present  war  shall  be  written,  Massachusetts, 
in  her  long  train  of  heroes,  shall  write  high  upon  the 
scroll  of  fame  the  name  of  the  gallant  Colonel  of  the 
Forty-ninth. 

"  A  little  in  the  rear  of  the  Colonel  rode  Lieut.-Colonol 
Scunner,  on  whom  the  command  of  the  regiment  devolved 
upon  the  fall  of  the  Colonel,  and  who  also  fell,  wounded, 
while  gallantly  leading  on  the  charge.  Farther  down  the 
;aent  rode  Major  Plunkett,  who  commanded  the  regi 
ment  after  his  two  superior  officers  were  wounded,  until 
their  arrival  in  Pittslield.  The  enthusiasm  of  the  men 
for  this  tried  and  true  officer  knew  no  bounds.  As  in 
stature  \^e  fuUy  sustains  t?l6  rc)ntt'it'«m  <>f  hi*  f<nnily,  he 
was  especially  a  mark  for  the  sharpshooters  of  the  enemy, 
and  fears  were  entertained  for  him  by  his  friends,  on  this 
acccount.  But  through  all  the  exposure  and  trials  which 
the  regiment  has  been  compelled  to  undergo  he  has 
passed  unharmed,  faithfully  discharging  his  duties  upon 
every  occasion,  winning  the  admiration  of  friend  and 
foe  by  his  courageous  bearing  in  battle  and  bravely  lead 
ing  the  regiment  at  Port  Hudson  and  Donaldsonville. 
It  will  be  remembered  by  our  readers  that  a  rebel  sharp 
shooter,  taken  prisoner  from  a  rifle-pit  at  Port  Hudson, 
inquired,  pointing  to  the  Major,  who  that  officer  was,  and 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  365 

stated,  that  *  he'd  fired  five  times  at  the  critter  and 
couldn't  hit  him  once.'  Rarely  do  we  see  a  corps  of 
officers  so  well  deserving  a  gallant  regiment,  rarely  a 
regiment  reflecting  such  honor  upon  their  officers. 

"The  streets  through  which  the  procession  passed  were 
all  beautifully  decorated,  and  the  town  appeared  in  its 
gayest  colors  in  honor  of  the  occasion.  Near  the  depot 
was  suspended  a  banner  bearing  the  inscription  so  famil- 
i:ir  to  all,  'How  are  you,  Forty -ninth  ?'  Large  flags 
were  suspended '  across  North  street,  from  Goodrich, 
Geer's,  Root's  and  Burbank  Blocks,  and  smaller  ones 
were  displayed  from  the  various  stores.  There  were  also 
banners  with  the  mottos,  '  Welcome  Home,  Gallant 
Forty-ninth,'  and  *  Ain't  you  glad  you've  come  ?'  Far 
ther  down  the  street,  a  little  above  the  corner  of  East 
street,  stood  the  triumphal  arch,  the  framework  of  which 
was  first  covered  with  cloth  of  the  national  colors,  red, 
white,  and  blue,  and  afterwards  tastefully  ornamented 
with  wreaths  of  evergreens  and  decorated  with  flags. 
Upon  the  north  side  was  the  inscription,  'Welcome,' 
the  truth  of  which  \vas  verified  in  the  hearty  cheers  and 
joyous  countenances  of  the  vast  throng  assembled  to  re 
ceive  these  brave  and  loyal  sons  of  Berkshire.  Upon  the 
south  side,  were  the  following:  'Plain's  Store,  May  21st,' 
4  Port  Hudson,  May  27th,  June  14th,'  *  Donaldsonville, 
July  13th.'  There  were  also  upon  the  north  side,  two 
beautiful  stars  of  roses,  above  which,  respectively,  were 
the  words,  'Berkshire,'  and  '49th.'  Between  the 
Pittsfield  Bank  and  Backus' s  Block  were  suspended  flags, 
on  one  of  which  was  the  motto,  '  In  God  is  our  trust,' 
and  also  a  large  banner  trimmed  with  black,  containing 
the  inscription,  'In  Memoriam.  TJie  Fallen  JlraveS 
As  the  regiment  passed  beneath  it,  every  cap  was  raised. 
It  was  a  beautiful  and  affecting  sight — those  hardened, 
sun-burned  men,  happy  at  regaining  once  again  their  na 
tive  hills,  turning  from  the  cheers  and  congratulations  of 
the  crowd  to  heave  a  sigh  or  drop  a  silent  tear  to  the 


366  LIFE    WITH   THE    FORTY-NINTH 

memory  of  '  the  fallen  "brave,'  who  went  forth  from 
among  us  to  return  no  more. 

"From  the  Sanitary  Rooms  was  suspended  the  inscrip 
tion :  'Know  them  which  labor  among  you.  Esteem 
them  very  highly  in  love,  for  their  works'  sake.'  Between 
the  Rooms  and  the  Park,  a  Louisiana  State  flag  waved, 
taken  from  the  Custom-IIouse,  New  Orleans.  Over  the 
Pittsiield  Bank,  and  under  the  national  colors,  hung  a 
Confederate  flag,  reversed,  which  was  taken  from  the 
enemy  by  our  troops.  On  the  Old  Kim  in  the  Park,  was 

a  sentiment,  prepared  by  Miss  R ,  which  was  worthy 

of  the  old  tree  itself:  'Only  the  brave  deserve  the  FAIR/ 
Nearly  all  the  private  dwellings  and  entrances  on  the  line 
of  march  were  tastefully  ornamented,  but  we  have  neither 
spare  to  particularize  nor  ability  to  discriminate  between 
these  various  evidences  of  patriotism  and  good  will. 

"The  procession  arrived  at  the  Park  at  about  half-past 
eleven  o'clock,  A.M.,  where  the  regiment,  drawn  up  with 
closed  ranks,  opposite;  the  First  Congregational  Church, 
were  addressed  by  the  lion.  James  D.  Colt,  as  the  Hon. 
S.  W.  Bowerman,  previously  selected  for  that  purpose  on 
account  of  his  efforts  in  raising  the  regiment  and  the  in 
terest  he  has  always  i'elt  in  it,  being  unable,  through  sick 
ness,  tot'iriil  his  appointment. 

"  Mr.  Colt's  address  of  welcome  was  not  written  out  by 
hiniM'lf,  as  was  supposed,  and  dors  not  appear  in  this 
ivport.  We  took  no  notes.  The  speaker  alluded  very 
eloquently  and  appropriately  to  'the  fallen  brave;'  to 
the  gallant  Colonel,  Lieut. -Colonel,  and  Major,  and  soldiers 
of  the  regiment ;  the  heroic  and  patriotic  services  they 
had  rendered  the  country ;  to  the  heartfelt  regard  enter 
tained  for  them  by  their  fellow-citizens,  which  was  evi 
denced  in  the  immense  gathering  on  the  occa-ion  ;  in  the 
triumphal  arches  that  had  been  erected;  the  expressive 
mottoes  that  greeted  them  ;  the  national  flags  that  floated 
in  the  breeze;  and  the  liberal  provi>ions  that  fair  hands 
had  made  to  give  them  a  sumptuous  repast. 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  367 

"At  the  conclusion  of  the  address,  the  regiment  was  in 
vited  by  the  Marshal,  Graham  A.  Root,  Esq.,  on  behalf 
of  the  ladies  of  Berkshire,  to  enter  the  Park  arid  partake 
of  the  refreshment  provided.  After  the  soldiers  had  done 
ample  justice  to  the  viands  set  before  them,  the  tables 
were  thrown  open  to  all  who  wished  to  avail  themselves 
of  this  opportunity  to  appease  the  cravings  of  the  inner 
man,  and  a  large  number  accepted  the  invitation.  It  is 
an  evidence  of  the  unexampled  generosity  of  the  ladies 
in  preparing  the  entertainment,  that  after  all  had  finished 
at  the  tables,  there  remained  large  quantities  of  refresh 
ments,  part  of  which  were  reserved  for  the  regiment  ex 
pected  in  the  evening,  and  the  remainder  distributed 
among  the  poor. 

"  The  entire  reception  was  a  magnificent  ovation,  and 
may  be  regarded  in  every  respect  as  a  complete  success. 
The  morning  trains  into  Pittsfield,  both  regular  and  extra, 
brought  from  every  direction,  large  numbers  of  the  citi 
zens  of  Berkshire  to  do  honor  to  the  regiment,  repre 
senting,  as  it  did,  every  town  in  the  county,  and  it  is,  we 
think,  a  fair  estimate  to  say  that  the  number  present  was 
about  10,000.  A  more  orderly  celebration  we  have  rarely 
seen. 

"  Toward  the  close />f  the  afternoon,  the  trains  departed 
on  the  various  railroads,  bearing  with  them  their  loads  of 
strangers,  and  the  town  sank  into  comparative  quiet. 
Only  the  occasional  passing  of  some  soldier  with,  by  his 
side,  a  fine  matronly  countenance  beaming  with  satisfac 
tion  at  the  safe  return  of  her  ;boy,'  or  with  some 
younger  member  of  the  softer  sex,  whose  rosy  cheeks 
and  downcast  eyes  betokened  a  nearer  tie,  told  us  that 
'Our  happy  jubilee  was  o'er,'  and  the  gallant  49th  at 
home  in  old  Berkshire. 

"  Great  praise  is  due  to 'the  Chief  Marshal,  Graham  A. 
Root,  and  the  Assistant  Marshals,  for  the  admirable  man 
ner  in  which  they  discharged  their  duties. 

**To  the  ladies  of  the  several  committees  who  arranged 


368  LIFE  WITH  TIM;  FORTY-NINTH 

the  contributions  of  our  citizens  for  the  collation,  who 
spread  the  tables,  arranged  the  flowers,  ;m«l  dispensed 
the  bounties  of  the  repast,  too  much  credit  cannot  be 
given. 

"  The  music  by  the  Pittsfield  Liederkranz,  in  the  Park, 
was  listened  to  with  great  satisfaction. 

"The  arduous  labors  of  the  gentlemen  who  arranged  the 
triumphal  arch,  and  whose  efforts  were  unceasing  to  meet 
the  expectations  of  the  public,  and  make  the  reception  of 
tlie  49th  such  as  would  reflect  honor  upon  the  county  and 
town,  have  elicited  warm  commendation.  We  perform 
an  act  of  simple  justice  in  mentioning  the  names  of  Messrs. 
Win.  R.  Plunkett,  K.  W.  Ad:im,  A.  E.  Goodrich,  Win. 
II.  Teeling,  D.  J.  Dodge,  and  J.  D.  Adams,  Jr.,  in  this 
connection." 

It  was  a  happy  and  a  sad  day.  Friends  with  joy  came 
to  greet  friends,  yet  many  saw,  in  the  first  embrace, 
that  the  only  joy  left  them  was  to  hand  them  tenderly 
down  to  early  graves.  A  comrade,  whose  strength  had 
never  failed  him  in  the  day  of  battle,  found  himself  but 
a  babe,  when  from  his  stricken  wife  he  first  learned  that 
Death  had  snatched  away  his  last  "  household  jewel." 
Wives  came  to  receive  their  husbands,  only  to  learn  that 
they  were  dead  and  buried.  Three  little  children,  clad 
in  mourning  for  a  recently  deceased  mother,  instead  of 
meeting  a  father's  embrace,  were  told  that  that  father 
was  one  of  our  dead — our  "fallen  brave."  As  we 
marched,  with  uncovered  heads,  beneath  the  banner 
bearing  the  inscription,  "  Li  Memoriam — The  Fallen 
J3rave"  so  near  the  triumphal  arch,  and  thought  of 
those  who  had  so  fondly  looked  forward  to  that  hour, 
when  they  should  see  their  loved  ones  proudly  returning 
from  the  war,  but  who,  through  tear-darkened  eyes, 
now  saw  naught  but  their  vacant  places  in  the  ranks, 
sorrow  mingled  with  our  gladness,  and  our  joy,  though 
sincere,  was  quiet  and  subsued. 

Next  to  our  pleasure  in  seeing  relatives,  was  that  of 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  369 

once  more  looking  into  the  face  of  our  cherished  Colonel. 
We  greeted  him  with  such  cheers  as  convinced  him  that, 
way  down  in  the  depths  of  our  heart,  among  our  proudest 
and  holiest  remembrances,  may  be  found  his  name. 
"  Boys,"  said  he,  as  we  entered  Slaughter's  field,  on  the 
27th  of  May,  "  do  nothing  that  you  will  be  ashamed  of 
when  you  meet  your  friends  in  Berkshire."  The  record 
of  that  day  shows  how  well  we  obeyed  him,  how  well 
we  merited 

"THE     HEROES'     RECEPTION. 

"  Then;  have  I  seen  1     0  sight  to  cheer 
The  patriot,  when  he  bleeding  lies  ; 
To  kindle  hope  and  scatter  fear, 
And  light  new  fire  in  dying  eyes ! 

"Their  way  with  banners  waved  and  burned, 

The  welkin  rang  with  patriot  cheers, 
From  every  window  fondly  yearned 

Bright  eyes  that  spoke  their  joy  in  tears. 

"  And  music  round  their  pathway  flung 

Its  gladness  in  a  silver  shower, 
And  over  all  the  great  bells  swung, 
Shouting  their  joy  from  every  tower. 

"  The  war-horse  their  colonel  bestrode 

Stepped  conscious  with  a  soul  of  flame, 
As  if  he  knew  his  master  rode 

Straight  to  the  glorious  gates  of  Fame. 

"  The  coldest  gazer's  heart  grew  warm, 

And  felt  no  more  its  indecision ; 
For  every  soul  which  saw  that  form, 
Grew  larger  to  contain  the  vision." 

The  papers  inform  us  that  Bartlett  has  been  appointed 
Colonel  of  a  veteran"  regiment,  to  be  raised  in  western 
Massachusetts.  His  wrist  may  be  a  little  stiff,  as  the 
result  of  his  Port  Hudson  wound  ;  otherwise  he  is  as 
competent  to  lead  a  new  regiment  as  he  was  to  lead  the 
"  Forty-ninth."  They  will  say,  "No  troops  need  a  more 
capable  leader."  Though  he  is  young,  I  hope  he  will  soon, 
16* 


oTO  LIFE    WITH    T11K    !•  <  >KT Y-M.Vi  II 

become  a  Brigadier.  lie  should  have  a  wider  field  of 
usefulness  than  that  of  Colonel. 

Too  much  praise  cannot  be  awarded  to  that  excellent 
lady,  Mrs.  C.  T.  Fenn,  and  her  clU'rtive  coadjutors,  for 
their  care  of  our  sick  and  wounded.  About  fifty  were 
taken  to  the  hospital,  where  they  received  all  the  atten 
tions  that  patriotism  allied  to  Christianity,  working  out 
through  women's  hearts  and  hands,  could  inspire.  None 
made  question  of  rank  or  residence,  nothing  but  the 
measure  of  illness  and  necessity.  Of  Mrs.  C.  T.  Fenn, 
.Mrs.  L.  F.  Sperry,  Mrs.  W.  Carpenter,  Mrs.  M.  U.  Li>e  and 
daughters,  Mrs.  P.  Allen,  Mrs.  D.  J.  Dodge*  Mrs.  II.  Mel 
ville,  Mrs.  J.  P.  Rockwell,  Mrs.  J.  Gregory,  Mrs.  D. 
Wilson,  and  Miss  Sand  lord,  many  a  stricken  soldier  will 
ever  think  with  gratitude,  and  many  a  soldier's  widow 
will,  in  her  loneliness,  invoke  Heaven's  blessings  on  them 
who  so  tenderly  handed  their  loved  ones  to  God  and  His 
mercy.  The  sick  sent  home  by  sea  were  landed  at  Fort 
Schuyler,  New  York,  and,  by  the  workings  of  red-tape, 
were  dragged  to  Pittsneld  by  the  way  of  Stonington  and 
Boston,  though  their  friends  were  on  hand  to  conduct 
them  gently  home.  I  conclude  this  "  Reception"  letter 
with  brief  memoirs  of  our  dead.  Do  you  wonder  that 
reception-day  was  marked  with  sombren 

Edirard  N.  Frtm-h  (C),  a  farmer  buy,  from  Peru,  aged 
eighteen,  died  at  home,  of  consumption,  July  17th.  He 
was  one  of  the  very  finest  boys  of  his  company.  Had 
there  been  any  of  the  "shirk"  in  his  composition  his 
life  might  have  been  prolonged,  for  lie  clung  to  duty 
long  after  he  was  fit  for  the  hospital.  Discharged  after 
we  had  commenced  the  siege  of  Port  Hudson,  God 
mercifully  spared  him  to  hear  the  ifews  of  our  success, 
and  to  die  at  home. 

George  W.  Clark  (E),  of  Sheffield,  aged  twenty  years, 
died  August  8th,  in  the  hospital  at  New  Haven,  Ct. 
For  months  he  lay  prostrate  with  fever,  and  was  sent 
north  with  the  Colonel.  The  day  before  his  death  his 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  371 

father  went  to  see  him,  hoping  to  be  able  to  remove  him 
to  his  home,  but  God  ordered  otherwise.  He  was  a  good 
soldier,  and  a  young  man  of  more  than  ordinary  promise, 
loved  and  respected  by  all  who  knew  him.  On  leaving  with 
another  son,  he  said,  "  Mother,  one  of  us  will  be  returned 
to  you  again,  and  one  will  not.  Not  "  will  return" 
"  but  will  be  returned?  He  realized  that  Godv  not  man, 
was  the  disposer  of  such  events.  Of  five  from  Sheffield, 
who  died,  George  alone  was  buried  in  his  native  soil. 
Duty  done,  and  suffered,  he  rests  well. 

*  William  Funk,  Jr.  (K),  also  from  Sheffield,  was  buried 
at  sea,  August  10th,  from  the  ship  St.  Mary,  which  was 
bearing  him  and  other  sick  homeward.  He  was  a  steady, 
reliable  farmer,  aged  forty-four  years. 

The  remains  of  Henry  D.  Rhoades  (E)  were  deposited 
in  the  sea,  August  12th.  His  brother  sleeps  in  his  sol 
dier's  grave,  at  Baton  Rouge.  Henry  was  but  twenty- 
one  years  of  age ;  and  in  his  death,  so  near  home,  New 
Marlboro  loses  a  fine,  steady  boy.  "After  life's  fitful 
fever,  he  sleeps  well." 

On  the  same  day,  from  the  same  fever-ship,  the  body 
of  Mosely  Pomeroy  (F),  of  Monterey,  was  buried  in  the 
Atlantic,  to  await  that  day  when  "the  sea  shall  give  up 
its  dead."  He  was  sick  a  long  while,  and  in  his  nine 
teenth  year  found  rest. 

The  greedy  deep  swallowed  up  all  that  was  mortal  of 
Sylvester  Burrows  (I),  on  the  13th  inst.,  at  the  age  of 
forty-four  years.  He  was  a  farmer,  from  Mount  Wash 
ington,  and  was  a  nice,  moral  man.  Diarrhoea,  which 
closed  his  career,  alone  prevented  him  from  mingling  in 
the  glory  and  the  grief  that  surround  the  name  of  Port 
Hudson.  A  family  mourns  his  loss. 

George  Yager  (D),  a  large,  strong  farmer,  from  Alford, 
was  taken  with  diarrhea  soon  after  we  reached  Baton 
Rouge,  and  was  buried  at  sea  on  the  13th  inst.  He  was 
a  German,  aged  thirty-six  years,  and  leaves  quite  a  large 
family,  to  whom  our  return  brought  only  blighted  hopes 


\vrni  Tin;   I-MIM  Y-MNTM 

and  blasted  anticipations.  A  very  tim>  soldier  was  given 
to  consecrate  the  ocean  to  tlie  rights  of  mankind. 

John  J/  Ttdl  r  (I),  am  (1  thirty-live  years,  of  Lee, 
was  buried  at  home,  having  died  of  diarrhea,  in  New 
Haven,  the  lith  inst.v  He  was  a  good,  moral  man,  and  a 
faithful,  reliable  soldier. 

Charles  Turycon  (E),  aged  twenty-seven  years,  farmer 
from  Xew  Marlboro,  was  sent  home,  in  the  hope  of  sparing 
his  life,  but  fever  closed  his  career  about  the  time  we 
reached  Pittstield.  As  a  man  and  a  soldier,  he  bore  a 
good  name. 

Myr<>/i  _A7r/to/.s',  i-rderly  sergeant  of  Co.  F,  fell  from 
the  ears,  ne/ir  Little  Falls,  N.  Y.,  as  we  were  returning, 
on  the  21st  iust.,  and  when  found,  was  dead.  He  was  a 
farmer,  from  Otis,  aged  twenty-six  years,  and  leaves  a 
wife  and  child.  We  were  telegraphed  that  a  member  of 
Co.  /  was  found  dead.  Owing  to  the  mistake  in  the 
letter,  we  were  not  aware  of  our  real  loss  till  we  reached 
Albany.  Our  comrade  was  an  excellent  soldier,  and  bore 
well  his  part  in  the  toils  and  dangers  of  the  bloody  cam 
paign,  out  of  which  he  came  uninjured,  to  meet  death, 
when  his  wife  and  child,  of  whom  he  often  spoke,  were 
almost  within  sight.  He  said,  on  the  trip  home,  he  had 
a  presentiment  that  he  would  never  live  to  see  Berkshire. 
He  was  a  tifct'H/i/  man  and  a  reliable  soldier.  We  mourn 
for  him,  but  who  may  enter  ^nto  the  sacredness  of  the 
grief  of  her  who  came  to  meet  a  husband's  embrace,  and 
received  only  his  corpse!  lias  death  no  relentings  ? 

Ozro  P.  llr<>it' n  (K),  aged  eighteen  years,  one  of. the 
best  farmer  boys  of  Florida,  yielded  to  diarrhoea  after 
we  had  left,  him  at  Xew  Orleans,  lie  begged  hard  to 
come  home  with  us,  but  his  young  life  was  too  valuable 
to  be  risked,  u;id  we  left  him,  but  not  alone.  His  com 
rade,  J.  Tinney,  though  eager  to  see  his  family,  stayed 
with  him.  Captain  West  on,  with  his  usual  kindness,  left 
him  money  to  secure  all  comforts,  and  now  we  are  ap 
prised  that  the  noble  lad  teirmt8  one  of  the  nameless 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  373 

graves  that  crowd  and  sanctify  the  shores  of  the  Mis 
sissippi. 

Zebulon  Beebe  (G),  a  carpenter,  from  Williamstown, 
aged  forty-four  years,  died  in  the  hospital  at  New  Haven, 
on  the  18th  inst.  He  leaves  a  large  family.  Our  com 
rade  was  steady,  but  too  weakly  for  a  soldier's  duties  ; 
yet  he  did  his  part  well  as  hospital  cook.  Consumption, 
which  ended  his  life,  was  not  of  Southern  birth.  He 
took  it  with  him. 

Ilosea  Wheeler  (B)  died  this  day,  at  his  home,  in 
West  Stockbridge,  of  diarrhcca,  aged  forty-seven  years. 
He  was  spared,  to  die  among  the  friends  for  whom  lie 
went  forth  as  a  soldier,  and  as  such,  contracted  the  dis 
ease  that  has  carried  desolation  and  sorrow  to  so  many 
hearts. 

John  A.  Francis  (B)  was  one  of  our  best  soldiers. 
He  did  his  part  nobly  as  a  member  of  our  left  wing, 
which  met  the  fiercest  surges  of  the  wave  of  fire  that,  on 
the  27th  of  May,  covered  so  many  homes  with  honor 
and  sadness.  He  had  recovered  from  a  wound  in  the 
head  received  then,  and,  in  good  health,  started  for 
home,  but  was  taken  sick  in  the  cars,  and,  to-day,  yielded 
up  a  well-spent  life  at  his  home  in  Windsor,  aged  twenty- 
six  years.  Pie  was  faithful  as  a  soldier  :  could  we  expect 
less  of  one  who  was  faithful  as  a  man  and  a  Christian  ? 

I  cannot  more  fittingly  close  this  letter  than  with  these 
choice  verses  from  the  pen  of  the  pastor  of  the  M.  E. 
Church  in  this  place  : 

IN    M  E  M  0  HI  A. 

THE    FALLEN   BRAVE    OF   THE    FORTY-NINTH. 

BY   J.   WESLEY   CARHART,    D.  D. 

"Sleep,  ye  fallen,  sweetly  sleep, 
Tour  work  was  nobly  done  ; 
Y"our  names  are  written  with  the  brave 
Who  fadeless  laurels  won. 


374  ' ,'Fi-:   WITH  THI:  FORTY-NINTH 

Ye  saw  the  vauntine:  foo  advance, 
"\Vitli  banners  floating  high — 

Ye  struck  for  freedom  and  the  right, 
Resolved  to  win,  or  die. 

"Sleep,  ye  gallant  fallen,  sl.-.-p 

Where  winds  your  requiems  sigh  ; 
Your  memory  lives  in  many  a  heart 

And  moistens  many  an  eye. 
No  monuments  of  marble  mark 

Your  places  of  repose : 
Ye  sleep  where  Southern  violets  bloom, 

Or  tangled  sea- weed  grows. 

"  Sleep,  ye  sons  of  Freedom,  sleep, 

AVI icre  bugles  never  sound, 
Nor  clash  of  steel  nor  cannon's  boom 

Disturb  your  rest  profound  I 
The  glorious  flag  of  fadeless  hues, 

'Neath  which  ye  fought  and  fell, 
Shall  ever  proudly  wave  on  high 

And  of  your  valor  tell." 


MASSACHUSETTS   VOLUNTEERS.  3 75 


LETTER    XXXVIII 

PITTSFIELD.  MASS.,  September  1,  1863. 
MY  DEAR  L. : 

This  day,  we  were  mustered  out  of  the  service  of  the 
United  States.  There  is  now  no  more  a  "  Forty-ninth 
Regiment  Massachusetts  Volunteers."  Our  corporate 
life  is  extinct.  The  soldier  is  merged  in  the  citizen.  We 
step  to  the  duties  of  private  life  with  a  prouder  tread. 
We  have  done  something  to  make  that  life  more  secure ; 
some-thing  to  make  American  citizenship  a  holier  title. 
Our  toils,  our  sufferings,  our  deaths,  have  advanced  the 
finger  on  the  dial  of  Time.  Earth  feels  more  the  attrac 
tion  of  the  great  sacrifice,  and  is  nearer  Jesus.  We  have 
had  a  part  in  the  grandest  movements  of  the  race. 
Clothed  in  the  livery  of  the  nation,  we  have  stood  as 
Heaven's  soldiers.  Consciously  or  unconsciously,  we 
have  been  "  workers  together  with  God."  Our  names, 
but  not  the  results  of  our  deeds,  will  be  forgotten  on 
earth.  If  duty  really  prompted  us,  they  will  be  enshrined 
in  eternity,  as  of  them  who  counted  life  less  valuable  than 
man's  welfare.  Great  upward  strides  this  nation  has  taken 
since  we  were  mustered  in  as  soldiers.  Animated  by  a 
holy  idea,  God  has  given  us  his  "  mercies  of  reoccupa- 
tion."  We  reoccupy  territory  wrenched  from  us,  prin 
ciples  buried  beneath  party  and  prosperity,  and  the  hope 
and  sympathy  of  the  world.  Death,  anticipating  the  tardy 
officer,  has  mustered  out  many  of  our  number.  What 
reck  we  of  that  ?  Life  is  given  to  advance  truth.  Have 
not  our  dead,  in  their  brief  lives  and  noble  endings,  fur 
ther  advanced  truth  than  will  the  fourscore  years  of  them 
who  now  sneeringly  ask,  as  if  their  coward  hearts  had 
taught  them  aright  in  refusing  to  defend  common  privi- 


::7t»  i.ii'K   WITLJ  TIM-:  FOKTY-MNTH 

leges,  "  I  suppose  you  have  got  enough  of  war  ?"  Yes, 
we  have  had  enough  of  war.  We  have  seen  its  horrors, 
and  would  not  willingly  gaze  on  them  again  ;  but,  only 
those  who  bring  home  blurred  memories,  will  fail  to  draw 
from  our  past,  fresh  incentives  to  deeds  of  patriotic  self- 
sacrifice. 

Writing  my  last  letter,  I  will  close  the  list  of  our  dead. 
Southern  foes  have  followed  many  to  their  peaceful 
homes,  and  some  have  already  closed  their  campaign  in 
the  quiet  of  Berkshire  graves.  Over  others,  and  not  a 
few,  the  drawn  sword  hangs.  I  fear  in  vain  are  the 
prayers  and  loving  services.  That  sword  must  iall  again 
and  again.  Freedom's  full  ransom  price  has  not  been 
paid.  New  graves  yawn  for  failing  comrades.  Berk 
shire  must  see  the  dying  agonies,  to  enter  into  fuller  sym 
pathy  with  the  struggle  that  is  not  only  to  restore  our 
Union,  but  to  complete  our  liberty.  I  may  revise  these 
letters  for  the  press.  If  so,  my  great  regret  will  be,  that 
I  have  had  such  limited  materials  for  the  obituaries.  I 
have  done  none  of  our  dead  more  than  justice.  Igno 
rance  has  prevented  me  doing  justice  to  many.  Uniform 
goodness  presents  few  salient  points  for  the  biographer  • 
so,  of  some,  all  I  could  gather  was,  they  were  good  men 
and  true. 

J'\mtklin  W.  Hurtnon  (D),  farmer,  from  Monterey,  aged 
twenty-one  years,  died,  at  the  house  of  G.  Robinson,  in 
Piltsl'u-ld,  August  27th,  of  diarrhea.  Though  away  from 
home,  his  last  hours  were  surrounded  with  tender  care.  I 
had  no  personal  acquaintance  with  him,  but  Lieut.  Tucker 
responded  to  my  query,  "  What  kind  of  a  man  and  sol 
dier  was  F.  W.  Harmon,  of  your  company  ?"  "  None 
/><  fft-r  in  the  regiment." 

II>  in-ij  R.  Clark  (B),of  Becket,  aged  twenty-six  years, 
died,  at  New  Orleans,  of  diarrhoea,  August  22d.  He  was 
wounded  in  the  side,  May  27th.  He  leaves  a  family 
'•<-]iind  him. 

Levi  H.  Gilmore  (F),  a  farmer  boy,  from  Monterey, 


MASSACHUSETTS    VOLUNTEERS.  377 

aged  eighteen  years,  died  at  home,  August  30th.  I  be 
lieve  he  was  taken  sick  after  his  return. 

John  W.  Burghardt  (D),  aged  twenty-four  years,  farmer, 
from  Barrington,  was  taken  with  fever  at  Cairo,  and  died 
at  this  place,  at  the  house  of  H.  Webster,  who  was,  I 
believe,  a  stranger  to  our  comrade,  but  watched  over  him 
as  a  brother. 

Patrick  Downing  (I),  aged  eighteen,  from  Mitteneaque, 
died  yesterday,  of  diarrhoea.  He  was  a  steady,  moral 
man,  and  a  first-rate  soldier. 

William  F.  Burnett  (K),  a  Florida  farmer,  aged  thirty 
years,  died  in  Louisiana  after  we  left,  of  diarrhoea.  His 
captain  speaks  of  him  as  a  "  splendid  fellow,"  a  steady 
man,  a  good  soldier,  and  a  Christian.  On  our  leaving,  he 
said,  "  If  I  can  only  get  home !"  God  was  even  then 
opening  to  him  the  gates  of  an  eternal  home.  The  head 
of  a  family,  he  yearned  once  more  to  see  that  family 
before  entering  into  rest.  The  loving  Master  ordered 
otherwise.  Oh  !  how  often  that  cry  has  gone  up  from 
our  crowded  hospitals,  "If  I  can  only  get  home!"  Now, 
that  I  am  at  home,  it  rings  in  my  ears  as  if  in  reproach 
for  having  left  the  dying. 

I  turn  from  our  graves  to  the  living.  Receptions,  in 
the  form  of  suppers,  pic-nics,  &c.,  have  greeted  our  boys 
all  over  the  county.  It  seems  as  if  the  heart  of  Berkshire, 
wrapped  up  as  it  was  in  the  Forty-ninth,  yearned  to  burst 
forth,  that  her  returned  sons  might  see  how  proud  she  is 
of  them.  The  citizens  of  Barrington  are  very  justly  attached 
to  Company  D,  and  Mrs.  Bigelow's  bountiful  and  tasty 
supper,  so  characteristic  of  that  lady,  did  not  satisfy  them ; 
so  they  selected  Lieutenants  Tucker  and  Siggins  as  true 
representatives  of  a  choice  c6mpany  to  receive  further 
expressions  of  their  grateful  appreciation.  The  former 
gentleman,  too  proud  of  the  evidence  of  his  being  deemed 
worthy  to  suffer  in  the  cause  of  freedom,  to  mourn  that 
the  hard  chances  of  war  fell  on  him,  received  a  handsome 
service  of  plate. 


378  LIFE    WITH   THE    FORTY-NI^TII 

The  following  letter  will  explain  itself.  I  know  not  its 
author,  but  the  happiness  of  its  composition  is  only 
equalled  by  the  munificence  of  the  favor  inclosed.  Un 
expectedly,  the  gallant,  maimed  leader  of  our  forlorn 
hope  reached  home;  so  this  epistle,  with  its  rich  burden 
of  near  a  thousand  dollars,  and  its  richer  burden  of  a 
thousand  sympathies,  was  placed  in  his  hands  instead  of 
in  the  mail : 

"Gx.  BARRIXGTOX,  August  10,  1863. 
"Lt.  SIGGIXS,  Co.  D,  49th  Keg.  Mass.  Vols. : 

"  Dear  Sir — Your  friends  here  have  watched  with  intense 
interest  the  conduct  of  the  Forty-ninth  during  the  recent 
campaign  in  Louisiana.  Naturally,  they  have  thought 
more  particularly  of  Company  D ;  and  they  are  proud  to 
Bay  that  their  hopes  and  highest  aspirations  have  been 
most  nobly  realized  by  the  heroic  gallantry  of  that  com 
pany.  We  have  learned,  with  feelings  of  deep  sadness, 
that  the  hard  fortunes  of  battle  have  fallen  heavily  upon 
yourself.  Your  courageous  and  stern  devotion  to  duty 
as  an  American  citizen  soldier,  during  that  terrible  con 
flict  of  the  27th  of  May  last,  we  can  never  forget.  You 
are  far  from  us;  we  cannot  nurse  you,  we  cannot  give 
you  the  cheering  word  or  grasp  of  friendship  and  heart 
felt  sympathy.  We  must  do  something  for  you  and  yours. 
Do  accept  the  inclosed  as  a  token,  though  a  very  inade-' 
(piate  one,  of  our  pride  in  your  conduct  and  sympathy  in 
your  misfortune,  as  frankly  and  heartily  as  we  tender  it. 
Hoping  for  your  speedy  return  to  your  friends  at  home, 
we  remain  most  respectfully  and  sincerely, 

"  YOUB  FRIENDS." 

We  find  it  pleasant  to  be  at  home.  We  can  go  to  bed 
when  we  please,  and,  what  is  far  more  pleasurable,  get  up 
when  we  please.  Who  has  not  learned  the  luxury  of  the 
little  cat-naps  between  daybreak  and  sunrise,  when  you 
are  just  enough  awake  to  know  that  you  are  asleep,  has 


MASSACHUSETTS   YOLUNTEEES.  379 

not  drunk  the  elixir  of  life.  In  those  most  witching 
hours,  we  have  been  so  used  to  the  disturbance  of  the 
reveille,  as  to  be  tempted  to  begin  that  word  with  a  "  D," 
instead  of  an  "  R."  Prudence,  leading  Wealth  in  her 
train,  says  get  up  at  once,  but  now  we  "  don't  see  it." 
Draining  the  goblet  of  sleep  at  one  swallow  will  do  for 
the  soldier,  but  the  returned  veteran  has  heard  that  sip 
ping  lengthens  enjoyment,  and  he  means  to  give  it  a 
trial.  Away  in  Dixie,  we  used  to  get  up  much  pathos 
over  the  "  little  ones,"  but  when  they  crawl  over  their 
mother,  early  in  the  morning,  to  your  side  of  the  bed, 
and  having  satisfied  themselves  that  you  have  a  right 
there,  that  you  are  really  "papa,"  begin  to  beat  a 
"  reveille"  of  pats  and  kisses,  accompanied,  with  .experi 
ments  on  your  head,  you  think  *it  very  funny  the  first 
time  ;  but  it  soon  loses  its  novelty,  and  you  are  in  doubt 
whether  it  is  any  improvement  on  the  "  Dooty,  dooty, 
dooty  calls  you,"  of  our  quondam  chief  bugler,  Baker, 
of  Company  H.  After  lying  on  planks  and  Mother  Earth 
for  near  a  year,  feathers  were  so  hard  to  be  borne,  that 
divorces  "  a  mensa"  if  not  "  et  toro"  w^ere  only  fore 
stalled  by  the  forthcoming  of  mattresses. 

The  officers,  with  your  humble  servant,  have  had  a 
busy  week  of  it,  fixing  up  our  accounts  and  trying  to  make 
two  and  one  count  four,  or  three  and  five 'count  seven. 
The  latter  is  just  as  desirable  as  the  former,  for  the 
authorities  care  about  exactness  of  figures  and  accuracy 
of  accounts  more  than  a  few  hundred  garments  or  car 
tridges.  Mr.  Brewster  has  justly  deserved  the  name  of 
"Honest  Quartermaster,"  but  sickness  has  compelled  him 
to  shirk  the  work  on  me ;  and  for  a  like  reason,  Howard 
and  Northup,  who  never  deserted  the  post  of  duty,  have 
failed  to  aid  in  overcoming  this  Sebastopol  of  "  Abstracts 
and  Vouchers."  Dashes  failed  at  Port  Hudson ;  this,  also, 
can  only  be  reduced  by  siege.  The  happy  Lieutenants 
roam  round  the  streets,  hob-nobbing  with  friends,  thank 
ing  Fortune  that  bullets  did  not  promote  them  to  cap- 


380 


LIFE   WITH    THE   FORTY-NINTH 


taincies  and  settling  of  accounts.  Kangaroo-like,  we  find 
the  "tail  of  the  business"  the  most  troubles. mu-  part. 
Patriotism  might  allow  us  a  little  rest,  but  a  big  pile  of 
"greenbacks"  is  at  the  end,  and  only  at  the  end  of  the 
job. 

In  concluding  this  series  of  letters,  I  send  you  an  ab 
stract  of  our  statistics : 


No.  of  men  brought  home,.  .652 
No.  of  officers     "         "  24 

Men  discharged, 56 

Men  dcserUMt 32 

Meu  leu  sick  ut  New  Orleans,  12 

Men         "       at  Cairo, 1 

Men        "      at  Cleveland,  O.,    7 


Men  sent  home  sick, 51 

Men  missing, 2 

Men  died  of  disease, 82 

Men  died  of  wounds, 32 

Casualties  in  battle, 132 

Commissioned  officers  killed,     2 
"  "   wounded^  12 


Free  now  to  do  what  other  citizens  may,  to  obey  only 
what  our  judgment  or  conscience  approves,  we  take  our 
unobtrusive  places  in  life.  Our  privileges  will  never 
again  seem  common.  We  have  been  where  the  price 
was  paid.  One  additional  privilege  we  have  secured — I 
value  it  more  than  gold — we  have  the  right  to  say  before 
all,  ay,  in  the  very  centre  of  the  bereaved  :  "  This  war 
pays.  The  victory,  as  sure  to  come  as  that  the  God 
of  Justice  lives,  will  be  worth  more  than  all  it  will  cost." 


"For  whether  on  tho  gallows  high, 

Or  in  the  battle's  van, 
The  noblest  place  for  man  to  die 
Is  where  ho  dies  for  man." 


APPENDIX 


ROLL    OF    FIELD    AND    STAFF    OFFICERS    OF    THE    FORTY-NINTH 

MASSACHUSETTS  VOLUNTEERS. 

September  1,  1863. 

W.  F.  BARTLETT,  Colonel. 

S.   B.    SUMNER,  Lieutenant-Colonel. 

C.   T.    PLUNKETT,  Major. 

F.  WINSOR,  Surgeon. 

A.  R.  RICE,  Assistant-Surgeon. 

J.  B.  REYNOLDS,  "  " 

*  B.  C.  MIFFLIN,  Adjutant. 

F.  A.  FRANCIS,  Acting  Adjutant. 

H.  B.  BREWSTER,  Quartermaster. 


NON-COMMISSIONED  STAFF. 

A.  J.  MOREY,  Hospital  Steward. 

II.  J.  WYLIE,  Sergeant-Major. 

G.  E.  HOWARD,  Quartermaster-Sergeant. 

H.  H.  NORTHUP,  Commissary-Sergeant. 

E.  W.   STEADMAN,  Drum-Major. 

*  Detached. 


382 


APPENDIX. 


ROLL  OF  COMPANY  A,  FORTY-NINTH  MASS.  VOLUNTEERS. 

&j>temlcr  1,  1863. 


Weller,  I.  C.,  Captain. 
§Clark,  (-.  \V..  First  Lieutenant 
Franei-.  F.  A..  First 

Ki-ed.  (i..         >i-e»!id  " 

Howe.  A.  C..    rM-ru'eant. 
Adams.  C.  1'.. 
(ireln-i-.  1).. 
Hazard.  C.  .!.,          " 
J.  B.,          " 

Biety,  T.,          Corporal. 
*Bull,  -J.  I'-., 
I'ri.-stly,  J., 

ft,  E.  D.,  u 
Kt-arri.  G.  II.,  " 
Kei-d.  L.  J.,  " 

Daily.  M.  F.,  " 

fccace,  J.  B., 


[Allen,  J.  H. 
A!  .U-.  M.  L. 
Al.lrich.  C.  S. 
Hnss.'tt.  .1.  W. 
r.aili-y,  J.  F. 

r.iiis,  u. 

I'.ryr,-.  .1. 
IBlake,  F.  V. 
Bayne,  \V.  If. 
liurkt-tt,  W.  L. 
Boirard.  It. 
UaiU-y,  W.  II. 
Brock  way,  A.  C. 
I1,  irt  o.  i). 

I  '.rook  8,  F. 

('i)lcinan.  0.  A. 

Cli'inan.  \V. 

Clark,  W.  K. 

Clark.  .1.  1',. 
'!.  U. 
*DavN.  L.  M. 

Daniels,  P. 

Drew,  T. 

Dunla]..  T. 

Kii.l.-.   I-:. 

Fuller,  C.  W. 

<;r.-wt',  II. 
{s(!rant.  A.  A. 
tjMandlr',.  M. 

Holland,  G.  A. 

Hall,  T.  K. 
§llubl.ard,  L.  F. 


1 


Hufneagle,  F. 

Horton,  \V.  H. 
uyn.-r.  D.  W. 
ones,  S.  K. 
.  W. 

Kittle,  J. 

Kendall,  C.  E. 

Kimball.J. 

Landon,  E.  A. 
|  Lathrop,  F.  B. 

Lo  Barnes,  G.  E. 
(Lewis.  A 

M.-rry,  J.  C. 

Marshall,,). 

MiJ  comb,  J. 

Mill.r.  II. 

M.-Coy,  M. 

Mei-ion.  A. 

Merlon.  L, 

Maxwell.  J. 
*Nol.le,  B.   <-. 

Kicliolas.  W. 

Nelll-.T.    I-".. 
O'llrien.  W. 
tl'latt.  C.  1  . 
Packard.  J.  K. 

Ki-ed.   W. 

Kuektashell,  H. 
.  11. 

Kairdon.  II. 
Kami..,,.  T. 


Jiobbins,  II.  M. 

Koot,  II.  L. 
§IJiiss.'ll.  K.  F. 

Stupka,  W. 

Bmirt,J. 

Swart,  J.  W. 

Shaw.  \V. 
*T:iyl..r.  W. 

.  \V. 
§Tillons,,n.  W.  E. 

Yandcburjrh,  C.  B. 
$Vid.-to.  c. 

Wat  kins.  (\  B. 

W:irn.-r.   B.  C. 

Walk  ins.  W.  H. 

"tt'i.dman.  J. 

Wells,  C.  U. 
,  A. 


*  Killed  in  battle,     t  Died  of  wounds.     \  Died  of  disease.     §  Discharged. 
|  Deserted. 


APPENDIX. 


383 


ROLL  OF  COMPANY  B,  FORTY-NINTH  MASS.  VOLUNTEERS. 


September  1,  1863. 


Garlick,  C.  R.,  Captain. 

Kniftin,  C.  W.,  First  Lieutenant. 

Noble,  14.  K.,  Second        " 

Jennings,  O.  W.,  Sergeant. 

Arnold,  J., 

Bliss,  A.  R, 

Burbank,  II.  8., 

Boynton,  C.  S.,  " 

JPierce.  E.  W.,  Corporal. 
tKossiu-r,  S.  II., 

Phelps,  H.  P., 

Nourse,  I., 
*(}:un\vc'll,  J.  M.,       " 

Burlingham,  H.,      " 

Wood.'G.    M., 

Wood,  O.  L., 
Davis,  H.  H., 


Privates. 


Adams,  "W.  K. 
Arnold,  J.  A. 
|  Arnold,  S. 

Ashburn,  W. 

Belcher,  A. 
IBclcher,  F. 

Barrett,  G.  N 

Barnes,  C.  H. 

Billings,  A.  M. 

Bliss,  W.  D. 

Bliss,  R.  K. 

Burlingham,  H. 

Brown^  G.  W. 

Barnes,  A.  V. 

Bennett,  S.  H. 
%  Babbitt,  G.  W. 

Bailey,  W.  W. 

Babbitt,  W.  S. 

Broga,  C.  T. 

Brown,  E. 

Boice,  W. 

n.vkwith,  C.  B. 

Cole,  R. 

Caldwen,GK 

Chapman,  A.  L. 

Carey,  J. 

Codding,  f,. 

Colly.  •!-.'(*. 

Cornell.  J.  A. 

Carter.  G.  G. 
tCook.  C.  H. 
Sdoddiiiff,  A.  D. 
JClark,  IE.  R. 


JDenslow,  J. 

Darley,  G. 

Fuller,  C.  R. 

Furrow,  W.  A. 

Fillio,  E. 
•"Fitzgerald,  G. 
JFrancis,  J.  A. 

Gannon,  T. 
*Grippeii,  H.  E. 
SGreen,  T. 

Goodell,  M. 
JGlead,  W.  J. 
*Heins,  C. 
^Hamilton,  C.  E. 

1 1  in  man,  W.  H. 

Hinman,  C.  C. 
§  Hathaway,  A.  H. 

Iloat'nyre,  S. 
$.Jourdan,  J.  A. 

Lynch,  C.  D. 

Lynch,  E.  E. 

Linen,  W. 

L&,  H.  E. 

Lynian.  J. 

Middlebrook,  A.  S. 

Merchant,  W. 

Markham,  C. 

Jilarkham,  A. 

Moore,  J.  E. 
tMursmville,  A.  H. 
^Morgan,  W.  B. 

Martin,  E.  M. 

Noonan,  T. 

Nichols,  H.  C. 

Rossi  ter,  A. 
JRossiter,  W.  W. 

Simmons,  E.  J. 

Stevens,  J. 

Sherman,  D. 
§Smith,  N.  B. 

Stearns,  E.  A. 

Sturtevant,  S.  A. 

Blosson,  F. 

Thayer,  R.  L. 

Van  Brainer,  A. 
SVan  Volkenburgh,  A. 
$  Wheeler.  H. 
SWilson,  P. 

Whipple.  J.  L. 

Warden.  (I. 
$W heeler,  A.  H. 
*Wentworth,  H.  D. 


*  Killed,    t  Died  of  wounds.    $  Died  of  disease,    §  Discharged. 


384 


APPENDIX. 


ROLL  OF  COMPANY  C,  FORTY-XLVTII  MASS.  VOLUNTEER& 
September  1,  1863. 


Lin-onfelter,  G.  R.,  Captain. 

r.  I).  IJ.,  First  Lieutenant 
JWella,  \v.  w..  Beeond     •• 

St.roiiL'.  J.  X.,          "  " 

<iodd,ird.  L.  W.,  Sergeant. 
JJr-.ks.  0.  II.. 

Temple,  K.  L., 

Dwver.  J.. 

\:i-'h.  K.  P.. 

Cranston.  \V.  II.,  Corporal. 

llaskins.  F.  II., 
*<;rN\v.,l.l,  A., 

Kinir.  1'.., 
Jl-'ivm-h.  }•..  \.. 

\Vade.  W.  W., 

Warren,  F.  E., 

Phillips,  T.  (J.,  " 

*l>e,wey,  A.  M., 


P.ak.-r.  II.  II. 
IJa.-,ti:ilii-llo,  J.  E. 
IJ..WK-S,  .1.  W. 

Braamwalder,  D. 

Jlristul.  <;.  A. 

IJrown,  A.  W. 
§  Brown,  J.  L. 

Hurnhain.  ().  E. 

C'.iuil.l.i-ll.   II.  J. 

Camp,  J.  K. 

"C.irrissi-v.  K. 

A.  L. 

Connor,  T. 

Cook.  .  I.  L. 

Cumrnings,  N. 

Downs,  15. 

Dudley,  C. 

l-M\v;mls.  A.  L. 

Farley,  M. 

Knrlifii:.  II. 
f  Farrall.  L. 

a.  \. 

Fi.'l.l.  O.  W. 
Gallup,  H.  C. 
ll.i.L'.-.  <J.  II. 
Hummel,  J.  \\r. 
Jaques,  W.  S. 


*  Killed. 


$  Died  of  disease. 


Johns,  H.  T. 

Jones,    A. 

Kellev.   H. 

Kin-'  K. 

KittiTiL'e.  F. 
§Kittn-(L'e,  W.  C. 

Kniirht/J.  N. 

Knox.  F.  M. 

J.  II. 
§I,i-lantl,  W.  C. 

Louiuis,  W.  E. 
§Mack,  L. 
{iMalally.  .1. 

.M:itte>oli.  M.  G. 

on,  P. 

Mi-Carty,  J. 

Me  Donald.  J. 

Merry,  K.  F. 

Meir'v.  II.  \. 

Mo,, re.  II. 

Murray,  O. 

Newton,  I.  J. 

Noble.  -I. 

(Min.  .1.  II. 
lOUnger,  0. 
*l'arker,  T.  F. 

Parsons,  II.  P. 

Pleroej  r,.  F. 

Koot.  i:.  i'. 

S.-ott,  T.  A. 

Silk.  M. 
*Smitli,  A. 
I  Smith.  II. 
*Stell;i\.  \V. 

Stowell.  II.   K. 
JStowell,  W.  W 

Stetson,  N.  W. 

Sturtevant,  II.  W. 

Stevens,  J. 

Titft,  S.  \V. 

Tilton,  T. 

Tower.  C.  U. 

Tucker.  I-!.  A. 

Wade.  15.  D. 
SWells,  A.  \V. 

Wileux.   K.   H. 

Wells,  J.  H. 
§  Discharged. 


|  Deserted. 


APPENDIX, 


385 


ROLL  OF  COMPANY  D,  FORTY-NINTH  MASS.  VOLUNTEERS. 


September  1,   1863. 


Chaffee,  8.  J.,  Captain. 
Tucker,  J.,  First  Lieutenant. 
$T'l"ivy,  II.  G.,  Second  Lieutenant. 
Sk'-ins,  T.,  "  " 

Gilbert,  W.  8.,  Sergeant 
Parker,  J.  K, 
Man  sir,  H.  W.,         " 
Murray,  E.  H.. 
Ray,  G.  C., 

odenwaldt,  W.,  Corporal. 
Fowler,  II.  R., 
Tucker,  H.  E., 
Dresser,  J.  A., 
Evans,  J.  W.,  * 

Toby,  E., 
Bristol,  II.  A., 
Hughes,  T.  H.,        " 

Privates. 

Adams,  J.  H. 

Hroderick.  M. 

Come,  P. 
§  Bangs,  C.  G. 

Broderick,  M. 

Parsons,  E.  W. 
j  Barry,  M. 

Curtis,  J.  H. 

Parsons,  W.  H. 

Steinhardt.  A. 

Conners,  T. 
*Bracken,  M. 
§  Lewi  s,  W. 
}  Yager,  G. 

Bailey,  A.  H. 

Warner,  A.  S. 

Moore,  R.  H. 
SNeomaeter,  H. 
;Kolby,  G. 

Luddington,  C.  B. 

Hump,  W.  K. 
JBills,  8.  C. 

Chapin,  C.  C. 

McGowen,  J. 
JWeigant,  C. 

French,  C.  H. 

Thomas,  J. 

Seymour,  J.  A. 

Ramsey,  L. 

Lewis,  H.  H. 

D  earing,  M.  H. 

Murray,  II.  E. 


*Hensey,  T. 

Coifing,  C.  F. 

Andrews,  G.  A. 

Wilcox,  B.  B. 

Dresser,  J.  A. 
JBurghardt,  J.  W. 

Hubhurd,  E.  N. 
Jllarmon,  F.  W. 

Wilcox,  II.  F. 

Shook,  E.  II. 

Donahue,  J. 

Heacox,  D. 
±  Wilcox,  I.  V. 

Morse,  B.  F. 

Luka,  H. 

Seymour,  E. 
^Fitzgerald,  J.  W. 

Luddington,  H.  W. 

Deland,  F.  N. 

Shelly.  B. 

Evans,  J.  W. 

Nettleton,  D.  S. 
*Reynolds,  M.  S. 

Mullany,  J. 

Van  Deusen,  J. 

Beach,  M.  S. 

Latham,  S.  H. 

Latham,  A.  S. 

Brett,  C.  W. 

Brainard,  A.  M. 

McCurdy,  R.  F. 

Decker,  M. 

Devany,  P. 

Loring,  L.  A. 

Loop,  A.  A. 

Shutts,  C.  W. 

Luddington,  E.  C. 
JComstock,  A,  R. 

Winchell,  J. 
^Godson,  J. 

Church,  C.  G. 

Bills,  G. 

Campion,  J. 

Phillips,  J.  P. 
JLuddington,  J.  H. 

Hunt.  W. 

Winters,  H. 

McGrath,  J. 
IRyan,  J. 
§Ward,  L. 


*  Killed,    t  Died  of  wounds.    $  Died  of  disease.    §  Discharged.    |  Deserted. 
IV 


38G 


APPENDIX. 


ROLL  OF  COMPANY  E,  FORTY-NINTH  MASS.  VOLUNTEERS. 
September  1,  1863. 


Train,  II.  D.,  Captain. 

Hinton,  J.  E. 

Sherman,  K.  T.,  First  Lieutenant., 

Holletibeck,  N. 

-.  ii.  i>.,  Beeodd 

i  Holmes,  H.  L. 

Tuttle,  M.  11.  Serjeant. 

Jlyde,  11.   I). 

Stannard.  P.  K., 
S-hutt.  M.  M., 

Jackson,  J. 
fJoyner,  E.  S. 

L  I'.. 

.loyner,  H.  (J. 

Paraana,  <;.  J,.. 

Lunpaon.  H.  W. 

<,:\.  truer,  \V.  J.,  Corporal. 

Lawrence,  W.  H 

llooth,  E.  L.. 

Lee,  C. 

J'.oanlman,  D., 

ILindsey,  L. 

Kariu-r.  W.  G., 

Little,  A. 

Wo.nl.  J.   H., 

Little,  F. 

l>ewev.  C.  (')., 

Loomis,  A. 

PaltnenUer,  G.  II.,- 

Lorinif,  J.  B. 

Palmer.  G.  W., 

ty,  M. 

Arnold,  F.  K., 

McCormick,  J. 

§Talt,  Ji.  U, 

JMallaly,  T. 

Maxwell,  W. 

Pricdtts. 

Miller,  J. 

Adams.  JL  1). 

Murphy,  W. 

UiMi-ad.  W. 

60'Brien,  -T. 

r.i-nel,  C. 

Palmer,  G.  W. 

Unman,  L, 

Palmer,  II.  W. 

Parsons,  A.  H. 

liruhnison  0. 

Patterson,  D.  C. 

Ur.-tt,  A. 

Platz,  J. 

Callender,  G.  E* 

Reapy,  J. 

Campbell,  L. 

IBhoadea.  C. 

§Carrol!.  JL  M, 
Chapin,  A.  W. 

JRhoades,  H.  D. 

Chapin,  N.  0. 

Roraback,  M. 

Chapin, 

Sage,  G.  W. 

Clark,  A.  W. 

v,  D. 

'  ,ark,G.  W. 

Slater,  S. 

Chirk,  W.  J. 

A.  M. 

I  Collins,  T. 

Smith.-l.  M. 

Gowtea,  L  N 

Stannard,  E.  R. 

Stevens,  G.  H. 

KiiMirn'  E.'  E. 

Stevens,  J.  J. 

Ferry,  A. 

Thatcher,  C.  F. 

Fo-a'rtv,  W. 

*Van  Deusen,  L. 

Fofoy.D. 

Van  Deusen,  E. 

^I'ootc,  B.  C. 

Ward,  J.  C. 
Webb,  D.  G. 

gtrorhain,  L. 

Webb,  J.  H. 

(Jarland,  O. 

$  Webster,  N. 

[larford,  N. 

Wilber,  W.  L. 

Hatch,  W.  H. 

Williams,  C.  K. 

U.-d^-r,  L. 

Winters,  W.  E. 

*lle\vius,  11.  S. 
Hewins,  S.  J. 

JTurgeon,  C. 
|  Winchell,  N. 

^Hinman,  E.  S. 

*  Killed,    t  Died  of  wound*,    t  Died  of  disease.     §  Discharged.    J  Deserted. 


APPENDIX. 


387 


EOLL  OF  COMPANY  F,  FORTY-NINTH  MASS.  VOLUNTEERS. 


September  1,  1SG3. 


Morey,  B.  A.,  Captain. 

Dresser,  E.  T.,  First  Lieutenant. 
§Sweet,  G.  H.,  Second 

Doolittle,  J.,        "  "        > 

*Nichols,  M.,  Sergeant. 

Silva,  A   P., 

Nettle  ton,  C.  L.,     " 

Back,  T., 

Judd,  T.  M., 

Palmer,  W.  H.,  Corporal. 
$Case,  N.  M., 

Flint,  A.  J., 

Mav,  H.  8.. 

Wright,  L.  W., 

Videtto,  C.  H.,         " 

Bradley,  G.  T., 

Steadinan,  T.,          " 

Townsend.,  C.  J.,     " 

Privates. 

Alexander,  G.  W. 

Blake.  H.  W. 

Bigelow,  A^S. 

Barnes,  G.  L. 

Barnes,  T. 

Babcock,  C.  II. 
*Bradley,  E.  R. 

Comstock,  G.  H. 

Cooper,  G.  W. 

Crosby,  J. 

Curtis,  M.  H. 

Caffrey,  J. 

Clary,  E.  E. 

Curt  in,  C. 

HDambose,  H. 

Downs,  I.  B. 
*Fuller,  W. 
%  Fargo,  "W.  R. 

Fay,  L.  S. 

Gardner,  H.  J. 
jGilmore,  L.  H. 
jGibbs,  S.  E. 

Green,  H.  C. 

Haiman,  M. 

II:ill,  P. 

Hunt,  R. 

Heath,  F. 

Heath,  A.  B. 

Horton,  B.  G. 
fHorton,  C.  H. 


Hnskeh,  D. 

Harrington,  H.  R. 

Harris,  A. 

Huggins,  M.  S. 

Johnson,  A. 

Jones,  II.  R. 
gKnapp,  H.  A. 

Kellogg,  L.  F. 

Latham,  W.  C. 

Lawless,  J. 

Lynch,  J.  D. 

Lamont,  D. 

May,  G.  T. 

Morgan,  W. 
JMorse,  E.  M. 

Moivy,  A.  J. 
{Norton,  W.  K. 

Nettleton,  A.  C. 

O'Neil,  J. 

OT.rien,  D. 
JOlds,  M. 

Pearl,  W.  N. 

Perry,  E.  F. 
JPomeroy,  M. 

Pomeroy,  C. 

Peck,  S.  E. 

Potter,  G.  B. 
§Palmer,  F.  A. 

Spoor,  A.  J. 

Sperry,  II. 

Sergeant,  J.  E. 

Sprague,  C. 

Steadinan,  II.  C. 

Steadinan,  E.  W. 

Steadinan,  J.  L. 

Thompson,  M,  A. 
!|Twimng.  E. 

Twining^  8. 

Townsend,  C.  J. 

Underwood,  H.  M. 

Wilson,  S.  W. 
iWoods,  W. 

Wood,  H.  P. 

Wright,  H.  W. 

Williams,  G.  R. 

Whipplc,  E.  O. 

Wheelock,  II.  A. 

Young,  J.  S. 
I  Gay,  C.  A. 

Hulet  O. 


*  Killed. 


$  Died  of  disease. 


§  Discharged. 


|  Deserted. 


388 


APPENDIX'. 


ROLL  OF  COMPANY  G,  FORTY-NINTH  MASS.  VOLUNTEERS. 


September  1,  18G3. 


Parker,  F.  AV.,  Captain. 
Ilarvi,-,  U.  B.,  First  Lieutenant. 

II.  M.,  Second  " 
Soutlnvick,  ii.  T.,  Sergeant. 
Torrey,  I).  \V.. 

',.  W., 

Noye«.  1).  W.. 
Noi-daby.  R.  T., 

.  11.  A.,    Corporal. 
\Vau-i  >.  '  ..  " 

Marsh.  0.  II.. 
(iarlick.  E.  W., 
Davis.  !•;.  JL  " 

(Vandal!.  H.C., 
Upton.  A.  II.,  " 

Fovvlor,  S., 

privates. 
iAldrk-h,  A. 
Adams,  J.  W. 

Avy,  J. 

Baboock,  H.  W. 
tBeebe.Z. 

Brown.  II.  N. 
r.i-nnctt.  B.  \'> 
I'.riu'L's.  -I.  N. 
J'.n.wiu  \V.  S. 
CroMcr,  W.  S. 

<  OX.  S.  W. 

<  lark,  (J.  S. 
('•inrtncy,  J. 

tOoortwnriit.  C.  G. 
(•.ink-.  F. 
CV.hvoll,  li. 
Curlry.  P. 
Clark;  D.  D. 
Cul.l.-itrh.  !•:. 
Clegg,  J.  8. 

<  'lict  st)oro,  D. 
Cheetl 
Clict-sboro,  A.  W. 

•  T",  A.   \V. 
l':-.lii«-ls.   1^   II. 

Dodsic.  <;.  W. 
DMTinan.  \V.  B. 
l>   i.-.vmple,  O. 
DilhVorth.  D. 

B.  0. 
Fern,  I'. 
(Jrav,  W.  F. 
Gallusha,  J.  M. 


Gore,  F. 
Green,  \V. 
y.  ,1. 

Herman,  C.  B. 
Iliihu-iJ.  J. 
Hfk..x.  B. 
IlMvsl.ind.  E.  J. 
Jnirraluuii.  E. 
J.eonar.l,  J.  M. 

MoGee,  J. 

::ior%-,  U.  H.  H. 

Miller.  W.  0. 

Mui-iihv.-'r. 
|May,  II.  H. 

Mariindak',  M. 
SMavi.anl,  \V,  G. 

iNile^  15. 

N. -N..II,  J.  W.    ' 
Noyes,J.  \V. 
Orambee,  A.  F. 

J'uru-r.  I..  W. 
Parson,  W. 

Quackenbuah,  J. 

Uei-.l,  A.  W. 
I  Kyan,  M. 
Elosevelt,  I. 

iNit.inson,  S.  P. 

Raymond,  E.  H. 
Roberteon,  F.  G. 
Beed.N.  T. 

Reynolds.  Nf. 
IN'Vnolds,  J.  F. 

Sampson,  W. 
Swcei.  ]•;.  15. 
*Swi-«-1.  T.  -). 
Smith.  A.  II. 
Sm-i-dU-y.  E.  G. 
Bouthwlck,  D.  W. 
Sh.l.ion.  Jl. 

: .  <;. 

§Snook,  .).  1). 
Stockintrs,  J. 
'J'owcr.  K.  o. 
ToiifV,  C.  M. 
Welton.  \V.  A. 

§\V.M.ll.    -I.     II. 

{Weeks,  G. 

Wilbur.  ( '.  A. 
White,  H. 


J  Died  of  sickness . 


§  Discharged 


Deserted. 


APPENDIX. 


380 


ROLL  OF  COMPANY  II,  FORTY-NINTH  MASS.  VOLUNTEERS. 
September  1,  18GB. 


Shannon,  A.  V.,  Captain. 
*  Drining,  B.  D.,  First  Lieutenant. 

Smith,  D.  W.  8..  Second  Lieutenant. 
*Wolcott,  J.  B.,  Sergeant. 

Bosworth,  M.  J., 


Phelps,  G.  A., 
Hitchc 


cock,  A., 
Taylor,  N., 
Whittaker,  A.,  Corporal. 
Bliss,  E., 
Crouch,  J.  P., 
Soars,  P.  II., 
Hess,  W., 
JDeming,  W., 

Privates. 
*Allen,  A. 

Allen,  F. 

Alexander,  A.  A. 

Baker,  G.  S. 
SBeMen,  A. 
f  Beach,  H.  L. 

Bliss,  <:. 

Bliss,  II.  J. 

Bowen,  L. 

Brown,  W.  S. 

Brown.  A.  W. 

Burke,  I).  • 

Calkins,  J.  H. 

Cady,  G. 

Doton,  J. 
^Dennison,  L.  L. 

Fuller,  W.  F. 

Foote,  A. 

Fasdick.  J.  H. 

Green,  W. 

Heath,  A. 

Hogan,  W. 

Howland,  E. 
*Ingersoll,  E. 

Keough,  M. 

Knickerbocker,  G. 

Loomis,  H. 
§  Daniels,  M. 


Madden,  J. 

Marfield,  S. 

Merrill,  S. 

McNamara,  A. 

MeGinty.  J. 

Munson,  M. 

Mulaly,  J. 

Northway,  J. 
5  Obey,  A. 

O'Donnell,  M.  8. 

Osborne,  G. 

Parsons,  W. 

Parsons,  H. 

Pratt,  G.  F. 

Quackenbush,  J. 

Rathbone,  D. 

Kichardson,  C.  N. 

Eichardson,  H. 

Richards,  J.  M. 

Kowe,  1 1. 

Seymour,  S. 
iSeymonr.  F.  P. 
$Smith.  E. 
tSmtth,  J.  J. 
tSmith,  M. 

Snow,  A. 

Spring,  H. 

Stone,  G.  H. 

Sturgess,  G.  E. 

Thompson,  S.  W. 

Vincent,  J. 

White,  II. 

Wheeloek,  H.  A. 

Ward,  J. 

Wright,  C. 

Earles,  F. 
I  Cline,  G. 

Gregory,  G. 

Daniels,  M. 

Sariner,  J. 

Wood,  J. 

Norton,  T. 

Carroll,  J. 


*  Killed,     t  Died  of  wounds.     $  Died  of  disease.      §  Discharged.      B  Deserted. 


390 


ROLL  OF  COMPANY  I,  FORTY-XIXTII  MASS.  VOLUNTEERS. 
September  1,  1863. 


Kennie,  Z.  C.,  Captain. 
Kelloj_.                        Lieutenant. 

Nol.le.  J. 

M.-Dani.-l,  W.  M. 

.Niehols.  W.  A..  Second  Lieut"nant. 

*Nra.  F. 

Mar>h,  W.  A.,  Sergeant. 

*()\VellS,  D. 

1'hmk,'  0.  H., 

lOwellS,   NT. 

McDonald,  E., 

Prowd,  W. 

(Jeer,  (i.  L..             u 

*Proutt,  L. 

Beelier,  J., 

Powers,  J. 

Sltoekwell,  C.  A.,      " 

Perkins.  W.  S. 

}Tuller,J.  M.,       Corporal 
Al.l-ott,  C.  V., 

Packard'.  W.  11. 

i:  *e«,  J.  B. 

Smith,  A., 
.  J., 

11.  M. 
wi<-k,  D.  A. 

Infill,  C.  L, 

Smith,  A.  C. 

Sprin-   M., 
V.-ui  Denl.urj,'h,K.,   u 
*Winchell,  D.,             u 

Turner.  F.  P,. 
Thayrr,  E.  C. 
Voaoorgh,  II. 

|  Vantriene,   P. 

Privates. 

Walker,  1'. 

McKenna.  J. 

Wilcox,  U    W. 

Wilson,  F.  A.  I). 

§Wileox.  F.  II. 

Barnaul,  Z. 

Winter,  J. 

Hi/.ler,  J.  <X 

*\Vhel.lon,  W.  E. 

Avel'V.   I*. 

\Vii5on.  F. 

Wiis.>n.  W. 

+  BniTo\v>.  S. 

Wink.  (  .  !•:. 

Beckk'y,  J. 

Allen,  D.  B. 

Bniwn.  F. 

Allen,  I.  N. 

gChnmherlain,  "W. 

§Km-ll.  C. 
Carpenter,  8.  A. 

Cru/ier,  L. 

Carpenter,  A. 

JDownin^',  P. 

^<  'r.-ssor,  .1. 

Farniim.  A.  8, 

Collins.  II.  A. 

Farnum,  A. 

Delan.l.  F. 

Foster,  o.  U. 

Hiiricius,  I. 

(Jallipoanx.  J. 
«;r..at.  K. 

.  F.  L. 
Dresser,  O.  W. 

Hatch.  S.   F.. 

E  Staples,  8.  8. 

.  V.  W. 

Seeman,  D. 

•Tellers,  L.  W. 

M.-rrflis.  J.  W. 

*.I(.niy,  F. 

5Mal!inson,  M. 

Ki-ll.'-t,  S.  S.  . 

f  Fobin.  D/ 

L"Vcl:uid.  F. 

f  Howard.  A.  W. 

M"rv:an.  A. 

§  Mason,  J. 

§\lcl)onongh,T. 

§  Wilson,  E.  A.  D. 

§Mettis,  J. 

*  Killed,    t  Died  of  wounds.    JDjed  of  disease.    §  Discharged.    (Deserted. 


APPENDIX. 


aoi 


ROLL  OF  COMPANY  K,  FORTY-NINTH  MASS.  VOLUNTEERS. 


September  1,  1863. 


Weston,  B.,  Captain. 
STs.ft,  K.  C.,  First  Lieutenant. 
t'Juild,  I.  E.,  .First  Lieutenant. 
(Reason.  8.  B.,  Second  Lieutenant. 
AVhite.  .]'.  L.,  Servant 
UUifl£,  E.  J.,         " 
*Wan,er,  If.  E.,     " 
Clark.  (J.   B.,          " 
Dalzcll,  D.,  " 

Welton,  E.  A.,  Corporal, 
tl'helps,  R.  E., 
Carey,  T., 
Bunco,  E., 
Bobbins,  D.  M., 
U  heeler,  G.  II., 
Parmerlee,  II.  A., 
tStetbon,  N.  B., 

Privates. 
Ashley,  H. 
Allen,  G.  W. 
tBliss.D.  S. 
Bradley,  J. 
^Burnett,  W.  F. 
Bartlett,  8.  0. 
Brazer,   I. 
$  Brown,  O.  P. 
^Bartholomew,  C. 
Bieknell,  O.  A. 
Beach,  D.  C. 
Burllngmme,  Z.  M. 
Brocha,  8. 
Bidwell,  J.  W. 
JCuin,  II.  W. 
Carman,  B. 
Curtiss,  J. 
tCampbell,  G. 
Campbell,  D. 
Chad  wick,  P.  B, 
Chapin,  G.  B. 
SChapin,  H.  B. 
*Carley,  8.  \V. 
Culver,  P. 
Clark,  H.  F. 
Decker,  H. 
'Decker,  J. 
Dowd,  8. 


Devine,  B. 

Decker,  M. 

Dunham,  J.  E. 

De  Forrest,  -J.  C. 

Decker,  J.,  Jr. 

Funk,  D. 
*Funk,  L. 
{Funk,  W.,  Jr. 

Fullerton,  S.  M.  G. 

Fail-field,  J.  II. 

Graham,  J.  A. 

Hathaway,  L. 

Hanalon,  T. 

Hennessey,  "W. 

Hart,  C.  W. 

Hollister,  G. 

Hunt,  II. 
Johnston,  J.  H. 
SJohnston,  W.  A. 
^Leonard,  W.  D. 

Moseley,L. 

Moselcy,  J. 
II  Mahoney,  J. 
Maloney,  T. 
Morrison,  H. 
§  Note  ware,  F. 
I  Powell,  S. 
Roys,  J.  M. 
Sears.  J.  8.  - 
Sheldon,  G.  L. 
*Shaw,  T.  C. 
Thompson,  A.  F. 
Tinney,  J. 
Tower,  C.  L. 
Taft,  L.  D. 
Tower,  S. 
Thompson,  G.  E. 
Torrey,  R.  W. 
Van  Tassel,  FT. 
JVan  Deusen,  D. 
§Van  Deusen,  N. 
Wolfinger,  J.  J. 
IWoIflnger,  G. 
^Webster,  S.  R. 
Wheaton,  W.  R. 


*  Killed,    t  Died  of  wounds.    J  Died  of  disease.    §  Discharged.    |  Deserted. 


YB  37829 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


